


Microwaves, Memes, and a Bunch of Other Stuff Kim Mingyu has Totally Destroyed

by bassdropontwo (jimandtonic), jimandtonic, kimmingyusleftankle



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Attempt at Humor, Crack Treated Seriously, Crying, Dysfunctional Family, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Kinda, M/M, Microwaves, Minor Violence, Swearing, This is DUMB, like seriously a lot of crying, mingyu is dumb, these tags are all over the place, tw: abuse, vine references, we refuse to explain that tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23551288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jimandtonic/pseuds/bassdropontwo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jimandtonic/pseuds/jimandtonic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimmingyusleftankle/pseuds/kimmingyusleftankle
Summary: Wonwoo knows who Mingyu is. He's that tall (cute) jock from next door, and absolutely not someone Wonwoo wants to keep having over at his house.Mingyu is a closet nerd that lives with four other grown-ass men and has no idea who Wonwoo is.When Wonwoo's problematic roommates, Soonyoung and Jun, throw a party that he's definitely not ok with, their worlds are thrown together in a jumble of ruined appliances, tears, and questionable Pokemon memorabilia.Because sometimes life works in mysterious ways. Mysterious, flammable ways.----A college au that started out as a crack fic and somewhere along the line became unexpectedly heartfelt
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kim Mingyu, Wen Jun Hui | Jun/Xu Ming Hao | The8, background Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V
Comments: 76
Kudos: 142





	1. And Now My Sock Is Wet

**Author's Note:**

> Mingyu chapters written by kimmingyusleftankle  
> Wonwoo chapters written by bassdropontwo

The loud, aggressive baseline of some overplayed Chainsmokers song pounds itself into Mingyu’s head, leaving his ears ringing. He smiles as Minghao shakes his ass in time to the song, laughing along with a handsome blonde boy Mingyu’s pretty sure is a friend of Jungkook’s.

Mingyu shakes his head and sways in time to the music, not close enough to the makeshift dance floor to show off his non-existent moves, but too close to pretend like he can’t hear the music. The playlist is that of every other college party he’s been to, overplayed hits from a few weeks ago, and trap remixes of great bops such as Thomas the Tank engine Theme, and the Mii Channel song.

He feels an arm around him, and turns to see a sloppy looking Jaehyun grinning back at him. “Dude, I'm headed out, don’t wait up.” Mingyu nods in response and watches his tipsy friend make his way to the door, where he’s met by a small, silver-haired young man.

Mingyu takes a sip out of the cup he’s been holding. He really doesn’t know what’s in it, but Seungcheol handed it to him, so it has to be at least safe. (He’s wrong, it tastes like battery acid.)

Minghao skips off the dancefloor, arm in arm with Taehyung, both laughing stupidly at something, stumbling around like idiots.

As far as he knows, Mingyu’s not wasted. He’s definitely not sober though either, but he downs a few more sips of the drink in his hand. He makes a mental check of how many roommates he needs to get home. Minghao’s with Taehyung, Jaehyun’s drunk in an Uber somewhere, and Jungkook and Seokmin are at home watching Ghibli films.

Just Hao to round up, he thinks, making his way to the kitchen to throw away his drink. Junhui waves as he passes. “Enjoying the party?” the older boy askes.

“Oh, yeah,” Mingyu replies lamely. It’s not the best party he’s been to at the house, but it was pretty short notice, so he just smiles. “It’s pretty great, Jun.”

The brunette smiles and continues through the small crowd, high fiving and side hugging several people. Mingyu snorts as Junhui encounters Kyungsoo, Jihoon, and Yoongi in a small huddle, who all give him hard stares with varying degrees of “I will murder you,” in them.

“Mingyu!” A loud yell cuts through the sounds of the party. He sighs as three girls run over to him. “Mingyu how are you?” Wendy yells, throwing an arm around him. 

“Wendy, hey, I’m good.”

Juhyun throws her arm around him too, feeling at his bicep and laughing. “Good game last week.” 

Mingyu shakes his head and laughs, both girls keep their arms around him. “Thanks, but I really didn’t do much. How are you all?”

Juhyun laughs again and replies, “So great.” Her hand continues to rest on Mingyu’s arm. “A little drunk.”

Seulgi eyes him, quickly looking to where Juhyun’s hand is on the tan skin of Mingyu’s arm. He catches her gaze, and she looks away quickly. 

“Well,” he says, attempting to slip out of the girl’s grasps, “It’s good to see you, but I have to go.”

Juhyun pinches his cheek and giggles. “See you in class Thursday.”

Mingyu nods. “I’m excited to get our papers back.” He isn’t really, but the white lie is worth being in favor with the Teacher’s Assistant of the class he’s almost failing.

“You did great. Almost got a C.” Juhyun knocks her shoulder into his arm playfully, but the force is enough for the cup in his hand to splash his front.

Wendy laughs, hitting his other arm. “Good one, Ju.”

He shakes his head at the two girls, who leave him standing in a small puddle of whatever the hell Seungcheol handed him, jeans soaked in the strong-smelling liquid.

“It looks like I’ve pissed myself,” he mutters to no-one in particular, trudging past several people on their phones, hoping they don’t notice his situation.

“Are you okay?” Asks a freshman he’s never met before, with a wide eyed stare and bright pink hair.

Mingyu stops and looks at the kid. Young, innocent, pretty sober looking. “Never drink kid,” he advises, and walks into the kitchen.

“Did he pee himself?” Asks someone around the corner and Mingyu curses. He can only imagine the rumors tomorrow, if no-one is too hungover to remember his wet pants.

Turning to the sink, Mingyu wonders what he’s supposed to do. He could leave the party, walk down the street with soaking wet pants, get new ones, and come back. Except Minghao could do something really stupid in that time, and he would be risking Jungkook and Seokmin thinking he pissed himself. (Again.)

The cold jeans cling to his body, making Mingyu realize that there’s no way in hell they’ll be dry anytime soon. He silently curses Juhyun, even though he knows she’s drunk, and it was an accident.

But the question still remains. What is he going to do about his pants? And then it comes to him.

He can just microwave them. 

It’s logical really, the heat from the microwave should, theoretically, dry out the wetness of his jeans. 

Before really considering how this could go wrong, he slips out of the moist jeans and locates the appliance he needs. It’s such a good description of my life, he thinks, standing there in his awful Pokemon underwear, setting the microwave on high to nuke his pants, while listening to Cooking by the Book Remix feat. Lil. John. How wonderful.

Mingyu turns his attention away from the microwave for a few moments to see if he has any notifications on his phone. There’s a few Discord messages from Jungkook, as well as several memes in the roommate group chat. (Entitled “Eating Ass and Taking Names) Jungkook has apparently flushed Jaehyun’s goldfish, Helga, down the toilet, and is freaking out.

 **bitchass_dog:** fukv dued helgas gone

O god i flushed her down the toilet how the fuck an i supsed to fix this

O sweet jesus whay erj i gonna fo 

Jaehyuns goign to kill me 

**sockman:** ur fuked m8

 **mingyhughgrant:** whomst

 **bitchass_dog:** the fish

jaehyuns fish

 **mingyhughgrant:** uh how??????

As he shakes his head at his roommate's stupidity, Mingyu notices a peculiar sound coming from the microwave. It’s popping and something smells a little off. He turns around to see that no, things are not going well.

His pants are on fucking fire.

“Oh shit,” he whispers, freezing in place, terrified of the event unfolding in front of him. Mingyu feels like a Sim, wanting the fire to be out, but scared to go near it, because fIrE?

“Is something burning?”

“Nah, Chan, just this rap verse I just wrote.”

“Shut up, you Weeb.”

Mingyu shakes himself out of the trancelike state, and does another quite regrettable thing. He grabs the front of the microwave, and with all the strength he has, rips the box out of the wall above the stove. 

Great, now he’s holding the box of fire.

With a crash, Mingyu drops it in the sink, quickly turning on the water and opening the door. Smoke billows out of the microwave, filling the small kitchen and making him cough. He really hopes Junhui won’t be pissed off.  
  


It was embarrassing walking through several rooms to find Jun, pants-less and still a little shaken up, but it’s more embarrassing to tell him about the microwave.

“You fucking what?” Junhui asks with wide eyes. 

“I ripped your microwave off the wall,” Mingyu says, hanging his head. “And I set it on fire.”

“Oh my god,” Junhui shakes his head. “Dude, what the hell?”

“My pants were wet,” Mingyu explains. “I wanted to dry them out.”

The door to the room opens and a tall, black haired man walks purposefully toward Junhui. He barely stops before grasping the sides of the brunette’s head and resting their foreheads together.

“Hi?” Junhui says questioningly, trying to move away from the man. The other man doesn’t let him break away, and takes several deep breaths.

“Why,” the dark haired man breaths, “Is our charred microwave in the sink?”

“Well-”

“And why,” he sighs and shakes Jun a bit. “Are someones burnt pants in the middle of our kitchen?”

Mingyu widens his eyes and feels his cheeks burning in embarrassment. He moves to stand behind a chair, not wanting this unfamiliar man to see his…Uhhh…Pokemon underwear

The black haired man releases Jun and rubs his face. “I just wanted a Hot Pocket, Jun. That’s all.”

The brunette laughs nervously and gestures to Mingyu. “We had a bit of an accident,” he explains with a kind smile to Mingyu.

Hot Pocket turns on Mingyu slowly, so slowly and looks at him with a look of utter disgust and shock, and opens his mouth several times, no words coming out.

“Sorry?” Mingyu supplies, widening his eyes.

A single tear traces it’s way down the man’s face and he bursts into uncontrollable sobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all so much for checking out our fic! This whole thing started out as a total joke that somehow became multiple chapters and we've had a ton of fun writing it. Please feel free to comment and let us know what you think, and, if you so feel inclined, check out some of our other projects!
> 
> Link to bassdrop's Tumblr [here](https://bassdropontwo.tumblr.com) if you want to come talk about fics!
> 
> Love you all!  
> \- GG and El


	2. This Kid's Definitely on Crack Right Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mingyu chapters by kimmingyusleftankle  
> Wonwoo chapters by bassdropontwo

There is a special place in hell reserved for people who break their promises. Actually Wonwoo knows pretty much nothing about hell given that he’s only been to church once in his life and that was when Jisoo dragged him out of bed on Easter morning, but he likes to imagine that people who break promises are given some sort of eternal punishment. _Especially_ when the promise is something as sacred as “No parties on weekends when Wonwoo is home.” 

He really should have known better than to trust his roommates to follow that rule, especially since Soonyoung is a huge people pleaser and Junhui is head over heels in love with that skinny dancer from next door and physically incapable of refusing him. He can imagine that neither of his roomates gave even one bit of resistance when two of their shithead-jock-sophomore-neighbors knocked on their door at six o’clock Saturday night asking if they could host a party at the olders’ house because apparently their “house is too small” and they “don’t have a functioning fridge” (which yes, are excuses they have used before). Wonwoo wasn’t there to witness it, but he can picture how Soonyoung’s face lit up at the prospect of partying, and how Jun dissolved into a puddle of goo at the prospect of watching his crush creepily from the other side of the room. 

Wonwoo wasn’t having a spectacularly good day to begin with. He had woken up to an email from one of his professors telling him that if he didn’t get his grades up he probably wouldn’t pass his philosophy class; his grandma texted in the middle of his favorite class informing him that there was a problem with their plumbing and he probably shouldn’t visit this weekend; when he had stumbled into work he spent almost thirty minutes being yelled at by an angry old man; and when he returned home expecting to be able to fall into a brief coma in the comfort and privacy of his quiet bedroom, he was instead greeted by the pulsing lights, horrendously loud music, and crushing crowd of a party in full swing. Wonwoo just stood outside of the house for a solid ten minutes trying to collect his anger and disappointment before shoving his way inside to try and find one of his roommates.

It's never hard to locate Jun because it's usually easy to find his crush and Jun is never very far away. The creep. This is just as true tonight, because Wonwoo spots him lurking next to the couch with a woeful expression as the kid, Wonwoo thinks his name is Minghao, dances with an attractive older man in the center of the room. It's not very PG and Jun looks like he's about to cry. 

Wonwoo is not in the mood to partake in the Wen Junhui Pity Fest, so he just leaves to go find Soonyoung. The other man is surprisingly hard to find, but Wonwoo is persistent and eventually locates him in the spare room doing body shots off Jeonghan.

“Oh hey, Wonwoo, you’re home,” Soonyoung exclaims after he lifts his head from obscenely slurping tequila out of Jeonghan’s belly button. Wonwoo is glad to see that he looks slightly ashamed. He should be.

In fact, Wonwoo is just about to chew Soonyoung out for being such a terrible roommate when a veritable swarm of people enters. “I heard we’re doing body shots in here!” Shouts someone, and Soonyoung’s attention is pulled away. With a sinking heart, Wonwoo leaves, pushing through the crowd and flinching slightly whenever someone bumps into him. There are couples parked on almost every step of the stairway, and Wonwoo steps over them without apology (not that they would be able to hear him over the sounds of their lips smacking wetly against each other). 

Finally, Wonwoo makes it to his room, which is shockingly unoccupied, and shuts the door with a slam, turning around and sinking down into a fetal position against the wood. He can feel the familiar buzz of anxiety thrumming through his veins like helium, threatening to lift him away from his body. He takes a few calming breaths. Wonwoo _can not_ let himself fall into a bad place again. 

So he distracts himself. Or at least, he tries to. 

At first, it’s easy enough to slip on his headphones and turn up his favorite playlist so loud that it almost hurts, but after a few songs, Wonwoo is starting to feel antsy again. The bed shakes every so often with the vibration of the bass from whatever shit music is being played downstairs, and with every shake, he can feel the muscles in his back start to tense up. 

Netflix is no help either, and he only gets a few sentences into his latest book of the week before the vibrations and the noise and the smell of pot wafting from under the crack in his door drives him insane. Angrily, he gets out of bed and stomps over to the door, yanking it open and growling, “Get the _fuck_ out of my house.” 

Wonwoo knows that he has a scary face and an even scarier voice, so it’s no surprise to him when the pot smokers yelp, one of them grabbing his friend’s arm to drag him away from the door, yelling, “Shit dude, let’s go!” 

Instead of making him feel better, the confrontation leaves Wonwoo empty and close to tears. He just stands there, in front of the open doorway for a long time, before he is finally alerted to the fact that he is really fucking hungry when his stomach gives a long, angry gurgle. Perhaps some food might help. His blood sugar is probably really low right now, and maybe after a nice meal, the party will be starting to die down and he can actually get some sleep. He thinks they might have a couple HotPockets left in the freezer (the good pepperoni with garlic butter crust kind, not the shitty five cheese ones that Soonyoung likes), so he takes a deep breath, and starts out the door. 

Wonwoo doesn’t immediately notice that anything is wrong when he enters the kitchen. However, when he pulls his HotPocket out of the freezer and goes to put it in the microwave, he realizes the problem. The microwave is just ... gone. There’s a big, rectangular, microwave-shaped hole in the cabinetry above the stove and a suspicious lack of appliance. 

Vaguely, in the periphery of his awareness, Wonwoo registers the dull thunk of his HotPocket hitting the floor. In a daze, he turns to face the rest of the kitchen and a few things catch his attention. One: there’s an acrid tang in the air that bites at the back of his throat, like the smell of burning plastic. Two: the remains of a pair of (formerly) very nice skinny jeans lay charred on the kitchen floor. And Three: his microwave is currently sitting awkwardly half in, half out of the sink, partly melted and still smoldering. As he looks on in horror, a small spark pops and fizzes away inside the ruined keypad, and his vision whites out.

One moment he is in the kitchen staring at the carnage around him, and the next he's halfway up the stairs, people parting before him like he's that one guy from the bible who parted the sea (like he said, he's not exactly a religious person). The logical part of his brain that has not been overwhelmed by righteous anger wonders where he is going and what he plans to do when he gets there, but at this point, Wonwoo has devolved into a mindless savage. 

Throwing open door after door in the upstairs hallway, Wonwoo finally finds Junhui in the spare room (after interrupting two couples mid-makeout and one guy taking a piss). He stalks towards his roommate and grabs his head, stopping just short of smashing their foreheads together. Jun gives him one of his trademarked confused looks. “Hi?” Wonwoo can feel Jun trying to move away, so he grips him tighter.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Wonwoo asks Jun in a deceptively calm voice, “Why is our charred microwave in the sink?” 

As soon as Wonwoo asks this, Junhui looks very uncomfortable. “Well…” Wonwoo cuts him off before he can say anything else.

“And _why_ ,” he gives Jun a little shake, “Are someones burnt pants in the middle of our kitchen?” It’s getting harder to breathe normally, so Wonwoo releases Jun and takes a step back, rubbing a hand over his face as he does so. “I just wanted a Hot Pocket, Jun. That’s all.”

There is panic evident in Junhui’s gaze as he laughs nervously and replies, hands waving to the side in a way that would make Wonwoo worried that he was having a stroke if he didn’t want to kill him so badly, “We had a bit of an accident.” 

Wonwoo is about to inquire into who the FUCK “we” means when he realizes that the weird stroke-hand thing that Jun has been doing is supposed to indicate something and that they are not the only two people in the room. Slowly, Wonwoo turns to face the other man. 

He is the culprit. Wonwoo just knows from the guilty look on his stupidly handsome face, and the ridiculous way he’s trying to hide behind a chair, and the fact that HE’S NOT WEARING ANY PANTS. In fact, all he is wearing is a plain grey t-shirt and a pair of ridiculously tight red boxer briefs with a pokeball right on where the bulge of his dick is.

Wonwoo hates him. He hates him so much. He hates the fact that he can’t have his HotPocket. He hates the fact that Jun is looking at him with a scared expression on his face. He hates his job, he hates philosophy, he hates his roommates, and he _hates_ the man that set his microwave on fire. 

Something warm and wet trickles down Wonwoo’s cheek and the dam breaks. 

“Oh shit,” the pokeball guy says, panicked, “Oh, shit, you’re crying. I am so sorry about the microwave, it was completely an accident.” They guy steps out from behind the chair and approaches Wonwoo tentatively, babbling about how sorry he is the whole time. “Oh my god, what do I do, you’re still crying, do you like, need a hug or something?”

The guy steps forward with his arms outstretched and Wonwoo flinches away, snot and spittle flying from his face as he snaps, “Get away from me you _murderer_!”

Pokeball guy stops immediately. Whipping around to Junhui, Wonwoo’s hand snakes out and grabs his roommate's wrist in a vice grip. Jun tries to protest as Wonwoo drags him out the door, but there is no stopping the dark-haired man as he makes his way downstairs. 

Soonyoung is standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking confused. “Wonwoo, what’s going on?” He’s slurring his words the way he does when he’s just on the edge of being totally hammered. 

Wonwoo’s other hand grabs the collar of Soonyoung’s shirt and soon all three are making their way in the direction of the kitchen, Soonyoung and Junhui being pulled along forcefully by Wonwoo. Both sputter indignantly, but Wonwoo is filled with rage and does not let go until they have both been practically hurled inside the kitchen. 

“Do you see this?” Wonwoo growls at his roommates. “Do you see what has happened?” The other two take in the destruction with surprised and confused expressions. “You both promised!” Wonwoo continues, “You promised not to do this, to party when I’m here, but you did anyway, and look what happened! Look what,” He spins around frantically, and luckily enough the pokeball guy followed them and is currently standing by the fridge, hands in a fig leaf position over his dick, “ _He_ ” Wonwoo points at the man, “Did to our goddamned microwave!” 

A crowd has started to gather outside the kitchen, watching the scene unfold, but Wonwoo is too mad to even care. “I don’t ask for a lot, okay. I never complain about you two never doing the dishes, or Soonyoung always leaving the empty toilet paper rolls on the counter, or Junhui always forgetting that I am allergic to seafood! All I want is to be able to come home and have some fucking peace and quiet, and you can’t even give me that!”

Soonyoung starts towards Wonwoo, still a little unsteady from the tequila. “Wonwoo, we’re sorry we thought that you were going home this weekend.”

This only serves to fan the flames of Wonwoo’s rage. “Yeah well maybe if you bothered to check your phone you would have seen that you were wrong.” Soonyoung hangs his head, but Wonwoo just keeps going, “You want to know what I texted you? I said that I had a shitty day and was really looking forward to having a quiet night in with my two best friends. But apparently my two best friends are selfish assholes who only care about being popular and getting their dick wet!” 

Both Soonyoung and Junhui flinch at his accusations, knowing exactly which insult is aimed at who. This time, it’s Jun who takes a step forward. “Hey, Won it’s okay, please stop crying,” Wonwoo didn’t even realize he was still crying, but now that Jun has drawn his attention to it, he can feel streams of warm wet tears trickling steadily down his cheeks. Jun continues, “We’ll send everybody home, we’ll clean up and we can get a new microwave.”

“No,” Wonwoo hiccups, starting to cry harder, “It’s not about the microwave,” Jun tries to lay a hand on his arm, but Wonwoo slaps it away, “Don’t touch me!” He buries his face in his hands, tears leaking between them.

“I’m sorry,” a new voice says, and Wonwoo peeks between the gaps in his fingers to see the pokeball dude approaching him tentatively, “I am so, incredibly sorry, I was drunk, but that’s no excuse for what I did, and if you want me to I will get you a new microwave …”

“Mingyu,” Soonyoung sighs, “You don’t have to do that.”

Wonwoo’s head snaps up, fury boiling in his gut, “Yes he fucking does! He lit our fucking microwave on fire, WITH HIS PANTS, and you want to pretend that everything is just fucking fine.” Jabbing a finger at pokeball guy, who’s name is apparently Mingyu, Wonwoo punctuates every word with a poke to his ridiculously firm chest. “You will get us a new goddamned microwave or _I will kill you_!” 

Mingyu looks incredibly intimidated and slightly confused as Jun approaches them and says soothingly, “Wonwoo, you’re really upset right now, why don’t you come upstairs and …”

“No!” Wonwoo whirls around to face Jun, a fresh wave of tears pouring down his face. “Shut up, this is all your fault!” It’s getting harder for Wonwoo to breathe, and his vision is blurry and out of focus. “You’re supposed to be my friend and all you fucking care about is that dumb kid from next door!” A look of panic crosses Jun’s face as Wonwoo starts spilling his secret. “God, why do you even like him, he’s _dumb_ and he’s got a fucking _mullet_!” At this point, Wonwoo is pretty sure he is unintelligible, but he can’t seem to stop himself. “I just wanted something good to happen today, just one good thing, and I ….” he trails off, looking helplessly around his ruined kitchen, and lets out an anguished sob. 

“Hey,” it’s Mingyu, who steps forward, a soft look on his face that has absolutely no right being there given how much damage he’s caused tonight, “You’re safe, okay, you’re safe, no one’s hurt.” Wonwoo stammers a bit, blinking tears from his eyes, and Mingyu comes even closer bringing his hands up. This close, Mingyu feels like he has his own gravitational field, and Wonwoo sways unintentionally closer to the taller man’s hands. They rest lightly on Wonwoo’s shoulders and move up and down his arms soothingly. “You’re going to be alright. I know you’re upset, and that’s fine, you have every right to be, but it’s going to be alright.” 

Wonwoo can feel himself sagging into the other man’s grasp, and no matter how angry at Mingyu he was before, he’s just so tired. Mingyu’s voice is low and calm, and he’s just tall enough for Wonwoo to sink into his arms and cry into his shoulder. “Shhhh,” Mingyu whispers, hand moving from Wonwoo’s arm to rub along his back, “You’re safe, I’ve got you.” 

Peeking out from Mingyu’s grasp, Wonwoo can see a circle of people in various states of drunkenness watching the scene unfold, and a wave of embarrassment washes over him. Another wave of tears shudders out of him, and Mingyu whispers calmingly to him, pulling him a little tighter into his grasp. Wonwoo doesn’t fight it, and continues crying in the arms of the half-naked man who just set his microwave on fire. Believe it or not, it’s actually not the most ridiculous thing that’s ever happened to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you for the wonderful response on our last chapter! Have another one! (We have a few chapters pre-written, so the next few should be up pretty quickly)
> 
> Welcome to the first Wonwoo chapter! These are full of angst, internal monologues, and crying (did GG project herself onto Wonwoo while writing this chapter???? You'll never know). 
> 
> Let us know what you think of how this thing is going so far, and as always, love ya!  
> \- GG and El


	3. Guess It Just Couldn’t Handle It

It’s been a while since Mingyu ruined anyone’s microwave, if you know what he means. And by ruining someone's microwave, he means regretting every life choice until this point.

He doesn’t know what to do. Hot Pocket won’t stop crying. It’s something he’s seen a few times before, but usually when someone’s on the verge of a panic attack, it’s Jungkook, who he’s known forever and not some complete stranger he doesn’t know at all.

Mingyu steps forward and does what he usually does for Jungkook. “Hey,” he steps to the smaller man and smiles caringly. “You’re safe, okay, you’re safe, no one’s hurt.” Hot Pocket guy, Wonwoo stutters a bit, tears still streaming from his eyes, and Mingyu starts to move his hands to his shoulders. They rest lightly on the smaller man’s shoulders and he rubs soothingly. 

“You’re going to be alright. I know you’re upset, and that’s fine, you have every right to be, but it’s going to be alright.” Jungkook usually needs physical contact to break his panic attacks, and Mingyu lets Wonwoo sink into his arms.

“Shhhh,” Mingyu whispers, moving his hand to Wonwoo’s back, “You’re safe, I’ve got you.” 

Something’s burning. It’s not unusual in the Xu-Jung-Kim-Jeon-Lee Household, but the acrid smell never fails to awaken Mingyu. The tall boy had far too much burning in the past 24 hours, and he rubs his face in frustration.

“Mingyu.” A pounding on his door sends him diving for the handle, and Seokmin’s worried face stares back at him. A scream echoes through the house and the two of them set off down the stairs.

“You prick!” Jaehyun is screaming. “Fuck you and your dumbass fucking cleaning. You killed my fucking fish, Jungkook.” The dark haired by cowers in the corner of the room, Jaehyun’s hurled words (and the occasional pillow) hitting him hard.

Mingyu watches tentatively before turning to Seokmin. “So why’d you call me down?” 

Seokmin tears his eyes away from the scene in front of them for a moment. “Oh yeah I set part of the kitchen on fire.” 

Mingyu isn’t even surprised anymore. “It wasn’t the microwave, right?” His mind automatically goes into panic mode, ready to topple any appliance in need of it right into the fucking sink. 

“What the fuck?” Seokmin turns to Mingyu, his full attention on him now. “Ok I really need to hear this story now.”

Mingyu grasps Seokmin’s shoulders and shakes them for effect. “What the fuck did you light on fire, you shit head.”

“Ah nah it’s totally chill. I just ruined a pan. It's all good.” Seokmin lets out a worried laugh and tries to steer Mingyu away from the kitchen. “I’m gonna go to class now.”

“You burnt my pan, huh?” Mingyu pinches the bridge of his nose and ducks as a throw pillow careens their way. “I’m done with this shit.” He groans, grabbing a jacket from the couch. “I’ve got a debt to pay off, fix the pan or throw it out. I don’t give a shit.” Seokmin gives him a tentative thumbs up and Mingyu starts to walk out of the room.

The spat has progressed to Jaehyun chasing after Jungkook with one of Minghao’s Vogues off the table. “You damn asshole, Jeon Jungkook,” Jaehyun screams, taking a swipe. “Taeyong won that fucking fish at the fair for me.”

“I didn’t mean to!” Jungkook leaps over the banister and falls about three feet, narrowly avoiding colliding with Seokmin. “I just wanted a clean house!”

Jaehyun looks livid. “I just wanted to split rent,” he lunges at Jungkook, “and I’m stuck with you, who thinks it’s ok to murder a living creature.”

Mingyu shakes his head and shoves Jungkook onto the couch. “Listen you dumb shits.” Jaehyun drops the magazine on the ground with a look of embarrassment. “You,” he prods Jungkook in the back of the head. “You killed his fish. We all know you kinda meant to kill the fish.” Jungkook moves to voice a protest, but Mingyu cuts him off. “You,” he throws a pillow into Jaehyun’s chest. “You never shut up about fucking Taeyong and the fish. Seriously, just be quiet and we won’t want to murder your fishes.”

Jaehyun opens and closes his mouth a few times, looking dumbstruck.

“I’m gonna keep it real with you chief,” Seokmin adds with the usual nervous laugh, “That is not the same fish. Hao and I have been replacing them to see how long it’ll take you to notice. That’s like the sixth one.” He shrugs at Jaehyun’s look of betrayal. 

“You’re all such dicks,” Jaehyun whispers. “Why do I put up with this shit.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes. “They’ve apologized, move on.” He kicks Jungkook lightly and moves to the door. “I’ve got shit to do.”  
  


Jun pulls open the door of the refurbished frat house looking like death. “Welcome to our humble abode,” the older groans, voice ragged and appearance more so. The party got shut down pretty early, considering the microwave debacle, but Jun was pretty sad drunk over Minghao and Taehyung’s *fun times* on the dance floor.

There’s shuffling from behind the door and Jun closes it a bit. “Shut up,” he whispers to whomever is lurking out of sight. 

“Well good morning to you,” Mingyu smiles, talking just a little bit louder than necessary. “I’m here to clean.”

Wonwoo pulls open the door a little bit further and surveys Mingyu. “It’s twelve.”

“Yes?” Mingyu cocks his head. “I just woke up.”

The dark-haired boy’s frown increases, and he yanks the door open. “I remember Soonyoung saying something about ‘ass o’clock’.” 

Mingyu shrugs and runs his hand through his caramel colored hair. “Well at least I came.”

“That’s what she said.” Both men turn to Jun and Mingyu cracks a smile. 

Wonwoo mutters darkly about “children” and “fucking idiots” as he walks into the kitchen. “Cleaning stuff. Garbage bags. Don’t touch my Hot Pockets.”

Mingyu turns confusedly to Jun. “So do I just” he gestures around and points wildly to areas in need of a good wash. “Go for it?”

Jun nods his head solemnly. “Full send.”

There’s a lot to be done. Too much, really. The kitchen is understandably fucked up. Someone puked in the hall bathroom and there’s so much damn trash everywhere. The sheer amount of plastic cups is overwhelming.

For this job, he needs The Boys.

Wonwoo runs into kitchen, nearly colliding with Mingyu. “Why the fuck,” he pants angrily, “Are your little friends walking up onto my porch right now?”

As he finishes his thought, there’s a racket from outside. The front door bursts open without invitation and three of the four roommates tramp into the front room. “Hey ghouls,” Jungkook yells, “The boys are here.”

“Fuck me,” Wonwoo groans, slamming his head unnecessarily hard into the kitchen counter.

Mingyu rushes to Wonwoo to check and see if he’s still conscious, but the older slides his hand out from the depths of his oversized hoodie and sticks up his middle finger. Shaking his head, Mingyu walks to his roommates. “Hey, please shut up.”

This does nothing to decrease the volume quickly filling the large house, and Mingyu groans. “We are here to serve you, oh great Mingyu.”

“What the fuck happened to you?” Mingyu turns to Jungkook, whose face is sporting a fresh, purple bruise. 

Jungkook grins and throws his arm around Jaehyun. “You’re little speech didn’t help.”

“I punched him,” Jaehyun finishes, matching Jungkook’s grin.

Wonwoo trudges in and leans against the wall, a look of disdain and agony on his face. “I’ve never craved death more,” he says with a sigh.

Mingyu explains the situation. How he fucked up the microwave, and by extent, Wonwoo’s evening and (according to him) the rest of his life. “I just need some help deep cleaning the place,” Mingyu finishes. “Also I need to go get a microwave sometime soon.”

“Damn right,” Seokmin says, hand over his heart. “I can’t believe you got drunk off your ass and ruined a perfectly good pair of jeans.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mingyu waves him off. “Just help me out, please.” 

Mingyu really doesn’t know how he ripped this microwave off the wall. It weighs like ten thousand pounds now, and he, Jungkook and Jaehyun all are having a hard time getting it out of the sink. “Big push,” Mingyu says, straining at the appliance.

“It’s a microwave, Kim, not a child,” Jungkook groans, pulling on the handle. It promptly snaps off and sends him to the ground. “Guess it just couldn’t-”

“Don’t,” Wonwoo whispers from the doorway, face in his hands. “I can’t deal with more of these references.” 

The 97 Line try their Best™, and soon, the microwave is in bits on the floor. “You get the big chunk,” Jungkook squeals, running out of the room with the handle and nothing else. 

Jaehyun follows suit by grabbing the door and pulling it off its hinges. “I’m out,” he says, saluting to Wonwoo as he runs past him.

Mingyu attempts a smile at Wonwoo, who stares at him, expression unchanging. Mingyu pulls on the large hunk of metal, trying to get it off the ground. 

“Lift from the legs,” Wonwoo says quietly, crossing his arms and leaning against the cabinets opposite Mingyu. The tall boy rolls his eyes and tries again, ignoring Wonwoo. “I’m telling you,” Wonwoo smirks with a shrug. “It’ll work much better.”

Mingyu sighs and nearly throws the microwave (or what remains of it) into the air. “Thanks,” he grins, jostling past Wonwoo to throw the hunk of burned plastic on the curb.

Wonwoo says nothing when Mingyu returns to the kitchen. His expression has turned stony again, and his arms are back to being crossed. Mingyu smiles to himself at how ridiculous the tiny man looks, enveloped in his two sizes to big sweatshirt, glasses falling down the bridge of his nose. “Hey,” Mingyu says softly, dragging a wet rag back and forth over the counter, trying really hard not to splash soapy water on the ground. “I’m sorry I’m such a shit neighbor.” 

There’s a silence before Mingyu feels Wonwoo pushing him to the side of the sink. The older drops a rag in the murky cleaning water and pulls up his sleeves. Mingyu notices a grey, knotted string slipping down Wonwoo’s slender wrist toward the tides of soap bubbles, and he reaches out a finger to stop it. Wonwoo stops moving for a moment, and Mingyu pulls the bracelet out of danger.

Mingyu draws his hand away and picks up his rag. He keeps to himself, wiping down the kitchen surfaces, ensuring all the soot from the Microwave Murder is gone. Wonwoo moves around the kitchen too, taking care to not come close to Mingyu.

When Mingyu eventually feels satisfied, he throws his rag into the sink and drops to the floor. He rests his back against the stove and reaches into his pocket for his phone. “You’re not.”

Mingyu looks up to see Wonwoo resting his hands on the lip of the sink, staring out the tiny kitchen window. “What?”

“You’re not a shitty neighbor,” Wonwoo sighs, shoulders sagging. “You’re annoying as hell, yeah,” he concedes, “But you’re pretty ok.”

Mingyu laughs. “I might be a bumbling fool, but I’ve got a heart of gold.”

Wonwoo turns around and cracks a small smile. “Don’t push it.”

“That’s what she said?”

He almost smiles. “You can go, if you want.” Wonwoo says, looking around the kitchen. “Everything’s pretty clean in here, and Pretty Boy got all the cups.”

Mingyu raises an eyebrow. “Seokmin? Pretty Boy? Really?” Wonwoo shrugs. “What about me?” Mingyu pouts.

“You look like you rolled out of bed five minutes ago,” Wonwoo snorts.

The caramel haired boy nods. “I’ll agree this isn’t my best day.”

Wonwoo continues the abuse. “Like what is this formless potato sack of an outfit? That shirt does nothing for you, trust me. And honestly,” he laughs, “You look a lot better without pants.”

Mingyu can feel his face flush. “What the hell?” He laughs. “What does that mean?” He giggles and throws back his head. “Better without pants my ass.”

Wonwoo hides his face in his hands and groans in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he laughs. 

“Ok well whatever,” Mingyu huffs in fake anger. He straightens up and turns to leave. “I’m gonna head home, I’ll see you tomorrow for microwave shopping.” He walks to the front door, Wonwoo still hanging his head, neck pink. “Bye Hot Pocket,” Mingyu smiles, stepping out onto the lawn.

“Bye Poke-Dick.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again with terrible vine references! Rest In Peace Vine...  
> Anyway, thank you for stopping by to read our fic! Feel free to comment and tell us what you think!  
> <3<3<3  
> GG and El


	4. When Life Gives You Lemons

“Soonyoung, we have a problem!” Wonwoo throws open the door to Soonyoung’s room at frightening speed. He can tell that his voice is much louder and higher than it normally is, and he can’t help but think that he sounds like he’s been kicked in the balls. Which, to be fair, he feels like he has. But not in a physical way, in a  _ feelings  _ kind of way. He’s been kicked in the emotional balls and oh boy, he hates it. 

Without looking up from his desk, Soonyoung replies, tone even and unfazed by his roommate’s apparent distress. “Does this have anything to do with the hot neighbor who set our microwave on fire, talked you through a panic attack, cleaned our house, and who you are supposed to go shopping with next week?” 

The groan that rips out of Wonwoo’s chest is sub-human, and he loses all feeling in his knees, falling face-first onto the unmade bed. Soonyoung has always had a preternatural sense about embarrassing things Wonwoo has done, and right now, he doesn’t know whether or not to be thankful for it. On one hand, Soonyoung knows that Wonwoo is upset and that means that Wonwoo doesn't have to explain it to him. On the other hand, Soonyoung  _ knows.  _

Wonwoo rolls over and covers his face with his hands. The bed shifts a little, and he slides across the sheets until his bony shoulder is resting against Soonyoung’s significantly less bony hip.

“Hey, can you do me a favor?” Wonwoo’s voice is muffled by his palms in front of his mouth, but Soonyoung apparently understands because he answers with an affirmative grunt. “Can you grab a pillow,” Wonwoo continues, and Soonyoung’s weight shifts again, hopefully following Wonwoo’s instructions, “and bring it over here,” the orange light filtering through Wonwoo’s eyelids dims a little as the pillow is brought near. Wonwoo finally brings his hands down and opens his eyes, staring directly up at the ceiling as he finishes his request, “And can you please hold it over my head until I stop breathing?” 

Soonyoung only snorts and smacks Wonwoo’s chest with it. “Man, you are really gone over this guy!” The delight in his tone only serves to heighten Wonwoo’s embarrassment and he lets out a high-pitched whine, glancing at his roommate entreatingly. “Honestly,” Soonyoung continues, impervious to Wonwoo’s (admittedly rusty) pout, “I have never seen you like this over anyone!” An uncharacteristically slimy leer crosses Soonyoung’s face (he’s been spending way too much time with Jun lately), “And to think, all it took was a drunk guy setting the microwave on fire for you to finally get laid. When life gives you lemons, I guess!” Wonwoo hits him.

The problem is, Soonyoung’s not wrong. Wonwoo is not good at  _ feelings.  _ He’s analytical, introverted, withdrawn. He doesn’t get crushes, he’s been in a few relationships, but never ones that meant a lot to him, and honestly this whole thing with Mingyu is really starting to freak him out. He likes Mingyu. Like, _ like likes _ him. Which is, of course, ridiculous given the fact that Mingyu is a walking disaster, and also incredibly stupid, and also kind of an asshole. Wonwoo doesn’t know if he has a type, but it is certainly not whatever the hell Kim Mingyu is. 

Except that maybe it is? 

Mingyu may have been the drunken disaster who ruined Wonwoo’s night, and in the past twenty-four hours, Wonwoo hasn’t struggled to come up with plenty of valid reasons as to why he should dislike him. Unfortunately, there are two things that keep getting in the way of all of them. Two things that, try as he might, Wonwoo cannot stop thinking about. 

Thing One: Mingyu is hot. 

This should not be a problem. All of Wonwoo’s friends are unfairly attractive. He lives with Junhui and Soonyoung, for god's sake, the two people who are like, the physical embodiments of the phrase “sex on a stick.” The three of them have been clubbing enough times for Wonwoo to know that, despite Jun’s awkwardness and Soonyoung’s annoyingness, both of them can be incredibly attractive when they want to be. 

The point is, that Mingyu shouldn’t affect Wonwoo the way he does. The only two times Wonwoo has been in a room with Mingyu has been when he was drunk and pants-less, and when he was sporting a mean puff of bedhead and covered in sweat and cleaning products. Both were, arguably, the least attractive moments Wonwoo could have picked to be in Mingyu’s company. Wonwoo is used to listening to his brain, and his brain (a little vindictively) tells him that on a scale of “that old guy who yelled at him at work” to “Soonyoung dancing to Rainism,” Mingyu ranks down near the bottom. 

Unfortunately, Wonwoo’s heart (and other, less appropriate parts of his body) didn’t get the message. His cardiac rhythm is still catching up to itself from when it stopped after watching Mingyu’s biceps flex as he tried to pick up the broken microwave. Wonwoo is still breathless after seeing the way Mingyu’s thighs filled out his sweatpants as he “lifted with his legs.” God, Wonwoo can’t believe he said that! 

Even the dark, deep part of Wonwoo’s brain that hasn’t been taken over by anti-Mingyu sentiments agrees with his traitorous heart. Mingyu is, objectively, insanely hot. He’s tall and tan and muscular, and he’s got the glowing boy-next-door smile that manages to be the perfect balance of confident, shy and mysterious. Wonwoo will never,  _ ever _ admit it out loud, but before he met Mingyu properly (by way of the microwave), he always thought that Mingyu was kind of, maybe, just a little bit, sort of cute. 

Wonwoo lets out a groan that sounds like a sob, and Soonyoung’s face goes from gross to worried in an instant. “Are you okay?” He asks tentatively. “I was just trying to tease you, but if you’re bothered by it, I’ll stop.”

Sometimes Wonwoo is reminded of why Soonyoung is his friend. 

“No, you’re right,” Wonwoo sighs, “Mingyu  _ is _ hot, and I,” he grits his teeth, forcing the words out from between clenched molars, “I think I  _ like _ him.”

If Wonwoo wasn’t in a state of intense emotional distress, he would have laughed at how quickly Soonyoung’s mouth drops open. “Oh, wow,” his roommate shifts quickly onto his back so he can lay next Wonwoo. “Wow, this is big.”

Soonyoung has known Wonwoo for basically his whole life; long enough to know that Wonwoo doesn’t just  _ admit _ this kind of shit. He bottles it up like fine wine and never does anything about it until it spoils into vinegar. 

“Yeah,” Wonwoo’s teeth unstick from one another and he sighs again, “yeah, and it sucks.”

“Wait, hold up!” Outrage and confusion war for dominance in Soonyoung’s expression. “Why does this suck? You met a hot guy, albeit under less than ideal circumstances, and you want to get his dick, why does that suck?” Soonyoung props himself up on an elbow so he can loom precariously over his roommate. “This is the first time in a long time that you’ve been interested in anyone,” Wonwoo shifts his gaze away, uncomfortable with the earnest way Soonyoung is watching him. “And, again despite the whole microwave thing, he seems like a nice guy.”

Ah yes, Thing Two: Mingyu’s  _ nice _ . 

No, he’s not just nice, that doesn’t give him enough credit. Mingyu is beyond nice, he’s  _ kind _ . And oh god,  _ barf _ , that sounds so sentimental, but Wonwoo is genuinely freaked out by how empathetic Mingyu was, how observant he seemed, how comfortable Wonwoo felt with him. Wonwoo doesn’t like being around most people, but he liked being around Mingyu. 

Soonyoung must have noticed a change in Wonwoo’s expression because he frowns, “Hey, seriously, are you okay? You seem really upset. Did Mingyu do something?”

Now that’s a question. “No,” Wonwoo starts, frustration coloring his tone, “well, kind of, I mean it wasn’t anything bad, it was just…” Embarrassingly, Wonwoo can hear his voice getting shaky. He takes a breath and swallows around the growing lump in his throat before continuing. “We were in the kitchen, just wiping down the counters and stuff, and I went to go dump the cloth in the sink.” Soonyoung’s gaze is fixed on him, following the movements of his furrowed brows, the fidgeting of his fingers. “My bracelet started to fall down, you know how the knot never stays tight,” Wonwoo twists the cord around his wrist demonstratively, “and Mingyu saw it slipping and umm…” For some reason that he can’t fathom, tears begin to prick at the corners of Wonwoo’s eyes (that’s a lie Wonwoo knows exactly what the reason is). “He caught it, with his fingers, and stopped it from falling in the water.” 

He can’t look at Soonyoung, because he doesn’t know what he’ll find in his friend’s gaze. He doesn’t want confusion, he doesn’t want sympathy, that would somehow be even worse. 

Soonyoung knows the story of the bracelet: it was his gift to Wonwoo on their first day of second grade. At the time, it was half of a set that Soonyoung had made during arts and crafts: one pink bracelet, one blue bracelet to signify that Wonwoo and Soonyoung were going to be friends forever. The bracelet was ugly as fuck and of course Soonyoung lost his less than a week later, but Wonwoo wore that damn thing until the blue wore out of it and long after it had gone a hideous dirty grey. Soonyoung knows the story, but Wonwoo has never been able to put into words  _ why _ he kept the bracelet,  _ why _ it was so important to him.

There was a moment in the kitchen, right before Mingyu’s fingers brushed against Wonwoo’s skin, that Wonwoo realized that the stupid bracelet signified the first time anyone had ever told him that they were his friend. It was the first thing anyone had  _ made _ for him, had spent time on thinking of him as they created it. Soonyoung had zero talent for friendship bracelet making, but he gave it to Wonwoo because he was trying to let Wonwoo know that he was  _ wanted _ . In that moment, Wonwoo saw the bracelet slip inexorably down his wrist, slide over the ridge of his thumb, and for a single terrifying moment, he thought that he was going to lose it forever.

And then there was a long, tan finger hooking around the frayed string, arresting its movement. Wonwoo had frozen. He could feel Mingyu’s eyes on him as if they were a physical pressure, and for just a second, he felt like he wasn’t in danger of floating away. 

“He…” Wonwoo chokes a little on the words, closing his eyes and forcing the tears from his lashes, “He just stood there, and…” There’s a movement to his left and he feels Soonyoung’s fingers sliding gently between his own. “And, I don’t know, it felt like he actually cared about me.”

Silence envelopes the room. Soonyoung’s grip on his hand tightens and Wonwoo can feel the other boy shift closer. The tears have started to dry on Wonwoo’s cheeks when he suddenly remembers something, and his eyes shoot open. “Oh my god.” 

Soonyoung sits up immediately, “What ‘oh my god’ is everything okay?” 

Warmth rises up Wonwoo’s neck and to his cheeks and he puts his hands once more over his mouth as he whines, “I told him he looked better without pants!”

There’s a beat of silence before Soonyoung falls back on the bed, howling with laughter. 

Wonwoo regrets telling Soonyoung about what he said to Mingyu. It’s been two days since their heart-to-heart, and Soonyoung won’t stop making jokes about it, which means that Jun is now also making jokes about it despite the fact that Jun doesn’t know the context for said jokes, he’s just a major copycat. 

Wonwoo loves his roommates, he really does, but if he has to endure one more crack about pants, or microwaves, or hot dudes, or Pokémon, he’s going to commit a murder. 

Which is why, at 4:30 PM on a Wednesday, Wonwoo finds himself making up an excuse to walk down to the corner store and get away from the house. 

He’s not upset, not really, because the jokes aren’t mean spirited or cruel, he’s just kind of worn out. Between school, and Mingyu, and his grandparents’ house being off limits for the foreseeable future while their bathroom gets remodeled, Wonwoo just feels like he needs an out. And at the moment, staring blankly into a freezer full of popsicles is the best he’s going to get with the resources available to him. 

He’s so lost in thought contemplating how they get the rocket pops such an obnoxious shade of blue that he almost misses the frantic whispering coming from his immediate left. Tearing his eyes away from the bewitching hue, Wonwoo sees a group of guys loading chips into their red plastic shopping basket. It’s Seokmin, the pretty one from next door, and the emo one whose name Wonwoo doesn’t remember, and rising from the pack like a bronze statue wearing double denim is Kim fucking Mingyu. 

Only this time Mingyu isn’t drunk, pants-less, covered in cleaning supplies, or bleary-eyed from sleep. He is, in fact, very attractive. 

Wonwoo opens up the freezer door just to get a little bit of cool air on his face. 

The whispering gets louder, and Wonwoo notices that the other two guys are gesturing in his direction. He leans further into the freezer hoping to escape into the rows of otter pops or maybe freeze to death. 

“Hey, Wonwoo.” No such luck, he’s not nearly frozen enough and Mingyu has already started coming over. 

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo says, hoping his face isn’t as red as it feels, “Hi. What brings you to this fine establishment.”

Mingyu smiles and waves a hand at his friends who smirk, wiggle their fingers in greeting, and make rude hand gestures behind his back. “You know, just getting some supplies to last us through the week.” 

Taking note of the baskets filled to the brim with Fritos and whiskey, Wonwoo nods, “Wise choice.” 

“Yeah,” Mingyu says, rubbing the back of his neck and chuckling (which is so high-pitched that it verges on a giggle and it makes Wonwoo want to do something stupid, like kiss him). “By the way,” Mingyu continues, the neck rubbing turning a little awkward, “I wanted to talk to you about, you know, going shopping for a microwave. Something came up and I can’t go on Friday anymore. I’m so, so sorry about that, but it’s kind of a work emergency and I wanted to text you about it but then I realized I didn’t have your number and I just…"

He looks genuinely sorry, his eyes wide, earnest, and so fucking pretty that Wonwoo caves immediately. “Hey, it’s okay,” Mingyu’s worried frown quirks ever so slightly up at the corners, and  _ shit _ he’s so cute, what the heck? “I mean,” Wonwoo tries to gather up some of his carefully cultivated nonchalance, now in tatters around him. “As long as you make it up to me somehow."

“How about a coffee? I know a great place just a few minutes from here.” 

“Coffee sounds great,” Wonwoo replies, fighting back a fond smile.

“Fantastic,” says Mingyu, turning away slightly before snapping his fingers and swinging back around. “Oh, and can I get your number? You know, just in case I need to change plans and beg forgiveness again?” 

And Mingyu smiles, all teeth and eyes and double denim that somehow looks unironically good on him. 

Fuck.

He looks good in double denim. 

Wonwoo’s never going to live this one down. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, Mingyu is the only man allowed to wear double denim unironically.
> 
> Hello! We're back with another chapter, and once again, Wonwoo! Is! Crying! (Sorry I'm hurting him like this, I know this fic was supposed to be a comedy but I am incapable of not adding angst into things). 
> 
> You might have noticed, but the chapters are getting longer and longer as they go along (this fic has really turned into a beast), so expect updates to be a little bit slower as we try and finish things up. Anyway, this was a great chapter to write, and we hope you all enjoy it. Thanks so much for your support and all your comments and kudos, we really appreciate them! Love you all!
> 
> \- GG and El


	5. It's Free Real Estate

Mingyu genuinely can’t remember the last time he’s gotten up this early. The mall doesn’t open for another few hours, but Mingyu has a bunch of homework he needs to turn in tomorrow and doesn’t know how long to expect a microwave shopping trip to last.

“Why the fuck are you up, buttercup?” Minghao smiles, sipping loudly from a mug of green tea.

Mingyu squints and hunches his shoulders. “I have to go buy a microwave,” He grumbles, jabbing at the buttons of Jungkook’s expensive coffee maker with no result. 

Minghao raises an eyebrow and slides his half-empty mug across the table. “All for Wonwoo?”

The taller shrugs and takes a sip of the slightly bitter liquid. He gulps, mouth twinging from the scalding heat of the water. “Yeah I mean I destroyed his microwave, I feel like he kinda deserves some repayment.”

“Well ok then,” Minghao shrugs, clearing his plate from the table. He pulls out his phone and scrolls through it, looking over the screen every few seconds at Mingyu. “What’s up with that?”

Mingyu looks over and catches Minghao’s tentative gaze. He takes another sip of Minghao’s cold tea. “With what?”

Minghao looks back at his phone and sighs deeply. “You know,” he raises an eyebrow, “The whole Wonwoo thing.”

“I’m taking him shopping?” Mingyu says, confused by his friend’s tone. “I’m not sure I’m getting your point.

The smaller man sighs again, sliding his phone into his back pocket. “I just mean what’s going on with you two?”

“Oh,” Mingyu says, letting his mouth hang open dumbly. “Um, I think we’re maybe friends?” Mingyu says uncertainly. He hasn’t said anything to Wonwoo yet, just because the older seems wary of new people. He hoped that after coffee the other day, Mingyu would be able to call Wonwoo his friend.

Despite his party animal appearance, and his willingness to talk to people, Mingyu isn’t a people person. At least, not in the traditional sense. He has four friends. And as sad as it sounds, he only talks to Jungkook, Jaehyun, Seokmin, Minghao, his mom, and a few of his coworkers on a regular basis. He doesn’t have “friends.” He made one friend in middle school (Minghao), then another in highschool (Seokmin), and he became friends with Jungkook and Jaehyun by rooming with them in college. Mingyu doesn’t really know how to make friends, nor how he found any to begin with.

And that’s the thing, he hasn’t made friends. He just sort of ends up with them. Wonwoo might be Mingyu’s first proper friend. A friend that he talks to late at night, goes to lunch with, and one that he chooses to become friends with.

“Just friends?” Minghao asks, his brow raised.

Mingyu sets the mug in the sink. “Yes,” he says firmly. “Despite living with four gay men,” he says, running his hand through his hair. “I am straight, and I just want a friend.” Mingyu hates that toward the end of his sentence, annoyance and anger start to make his voice quaver. He knows Minghao doesn’t mean anything by it. It just sucks that his best friend would imply anything different about Wonwoo. “Wonwoo is a really nice guy, and I don’t get you all looking at each other and smirking every time I talk about him.”

Minghao nods and inhales slowly. “I totally understand what you’ve just said,” he says carefully. “I just can’t help but feel like there might be something more.”

“I am straight,” Mingyu laughs, shaking his head. “I have dated girls, I will continue to date girls, and I don’t like Wonwoo.” Minghao moves to speak again, but Mingyu glares his way. He goes back to looking at his phone, awkwardly glancing at Mingyu every few seconds.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Minghao finally asks, “Hey where are you planning on shopping?”

“The mall?” Mingyu shakes his head and huffs. “I have no idea where to find shit like that.”

Minghao pointedly jams the power button on his phone and raises his eyebrows. “Well I’ll leave you to it,” he shoulders his book bag. 

“Sorry,” Mingyu says quickly, watching his friend turn to leave. 

Minghao shrugs and smiles. “I’m sorry I pushed it.”

“It’s fine,” Mingyu replies, looking at his feet. “It’s stupid,” he says with a laugh. “I can’t help but feel like Wonwoo is,” he feels his cheeks warm. “My first friend?”

Minghao gasps dramatically and covers his heart with his hand. “I am offended.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Mingyu says, smiling at Minghao. “I just mean, you all came to me and made me your friends.”

Minghao’s face softens and he reaches out to squeeze Mingyu’s hand. “And you’re reaching out to him.” He grins at Mingyu’s embarrassment and ruffles his hair. “Let me know how it goes later, I’ve got classes until seven.”

“Love you,” Mingyu grins after his friend. “Have a good day at work, sweetheart. I’ll take good care of the kids.”

“Who the fuck are you calling kids?” 

Mingyu leaps forward in surprise, “Holy shit, that was terrifying.” 

Jungkook narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. “Pussy.” He moves past Mingyu into the kitchen and starts picking through the toast left on Minghao’s plate. “You better not be wearing those jeans again.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes. “You guys all need to chill. They’re my favorite jeans.”

“I swear to god, those things are so worn out, they’re going to split down the back one day and your ass cheeks will be hanging out for the whole world to see,” Jungkook yells.

“Hey,” Mingyu says, faking a hurt expression. “Be gentle. Words can hurt, Jungkook.”

Mingyu regrets this moment later as a piece of toast hits him right between the eyes.

  
  


“Hey!” Soonyoung throws open the door for Mingyu and ushers him in. “Wonwoo’s brushing his teeth or something, can I get you anything?” The older turns to Mingyu, setting his face in a smile that takes him too long to look convincing. The lack of Soonyoung’s signature eye smile and large front teeth makes Mingyu worry, as the older doesn’t often seem upset. Mingyu shakes his head and smiles back. Soonyoung shouts something up the stairs and turns back to Mingyu. “You can head up and see if he’s ready yet if you want.”

Wonwoo barrels down the stairs. “Hey how about we don’t go near my room?” Wonwoo smiles, although tensely at Mingyu, averting his gaze from a waiting Soonyoung. The shorter roommate looks to Wonwoo to say something, but Wonwoo brushes past him.

Mingyu smiles and finger guns at Wonwoo. (God why is he so awkward). “All set?” Wonwoo nods and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. The sunshine yellow sweater he’s in slips down his boney forearm. “We should get going,” Mingyu says, tearing his eyes away from a thread coming loose on the cuff of Wonwoo’s sweater.

“You two kids have fun now,” Jun waves from an upper window and Wonwoo’s cheeks flush.

“Just ignore him,” Wonwoo grits his teeth. “Acknowledging him only gives him more power.”

Mingyu lets out a laugh at Wonwoo, staring down at the pavement, eyes darting up once and a while nervously. “I’m not going to bite you or anything,” he says, nudging the older. They start down the sidewalk toward the main road.

Wonwoo relaxes, and a quick smile graces his sharp features. “Sorry,” he teases, “I just thought you might try and set something else on fire.”

“God I hope not,” Mingyu sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets. It’s a tight fit, them being from highschool when he was a Smol Skinny Boi™. “I only have one more pair if I use these ones as fire starters. I’d kinda like to not lose my favorite jeans.”

“A shame,” Wonwoo whispers, trying to be quiet so Mingyu doesn’t hear him.

The taller perks up. “What’s that?”

“Nothing,” Wonwoo answers quickly, a blush creeping across the bridge of his nose. His eyes glance down at his feet and his dark, stick-straight lashes flutter in the morning breeze. “I said nothing.”

Mingyu grins, showcasing his pointy canines. “Well ok then.” 

The two walk in relative silence for a few blocks before Wonwoo speaks. “So how’s school?”

Mingyu groans and slaps a palm to his forehead. “You really had to go and ruin my perfect morning, didn’t you?” He laughs, albeit painfully due to the mention of schoolwork and the anxiety in his chest from the damn paper he has due tomorrow. 

“So?” Wonwoo prompts. “Not great?” 

Mingyu shakes his head. “I’ve never been good at school,” he says a little ashamedly. “I just don’t think I’m cut out for a traditional education.”

Wonwoo nods. “I get that.” He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose (an intellectual thing to do), and clears his throat as if to speak again.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Mingyu says, worriedly throwing up an arm, which nearly catches Wonwoo in the chest. “I’m not dumb,” he furrows his eyebrows and really hopes Wonwoo (the smartest person he now knows) doesn’t believe Mingyu to be another dumb idiot not worth his time.

Wonwoo narrows his eyes and stops walking for a moment. He again looks at the ground. “I wouldn’t ever think of anyone as dumb, Mingyu.” He’s silent for a moment before starting off again. “And even if you were the dumbest fool I knew, I wouldn’t say anything.”

“Oh,” Mingyu replies, a little dumbfounded. “Ok. Thanks.”

The corners of Wonwoo’s lips turn upward as he tries to hide his smile. “You’re welcome, I guess. Can we just focus on getting me what I so rightfully deserve?”

Mingyu nods and directs Wonwoo’s gaze to the other side of the street. “Here we are,” Mingyu states proudly, stopping in front of a large, lit sign in front of a plain, grey building. “The mall.”

Wonwoo stares at the building in mild shock and wonderment. “I’ve been here three years,” he says, eyes squinting at the mall map, “How did I not know this existed?”

Mingyu shrugs. “I came here on my first day on campus with my mom, so it beats me. It’s kinda a hard place to miss.”

The older nods slowly and jerks his head in the direction of the entrance. “I believe I was promised a microwave?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The mall is pretty empty, and Mingyu doesn’t really understand why there aren't more people there. Thursday morning at ten? It’s free real estate. The food court obviously isn’t open yet, but the Cinnabon counter is (thankfully) in operation.

“Where are you going?” Wonwoo asks with an eyebrow raised at Mingyu’s sniffing. 

The taller sniffs again. “Cinnabons,” he grins, pointing toward the stand in the middle of the mall. “I barely ate breakfast,” he says, seeing Wonwoo’s halfway horrified expression. The older’s face turns stony. “Oh come on,” he wines, “please don’t take this away from me.”

Wonwoo blinks back at him unsympathetically. “I want my microwave.”

“Please Wonwoo?” Mingyu pouts a bit more. Pouting has literally never worked for him, given the fact he’s an older sibling and his parents thought it was weird their “good big boy” was acting like a child, and that all of his roommates and friends are heartless bastards who can’t recognize a pretty face if it pouted and begged for some popcorn too, Jungkook.

The older’s expression wavers for a moment, but he crosses his arms and sets his jaw. “Microwave,” he says, tossing his head in the direction of the Sears a few stores away.

Mingyu hangs his head and stares at Wonwoo through his lashes. “Ok,” he sighs, defeatedly, turning away. There was an attempt, not a great one, but at least he tried. 

He’s about to walk into the Sears before Wonwoo uncrosses his arms and lets go of his cold expression. “Fine,” he sighs, pulling on the sleeve of Mingyu’s grey sweatshirt. “Just make it quick.” 

The older rolls his eyes as Mingyu orders with an outrageous amount of glee, but Mingyu catches Wonwoo’s smiles every so often as he watches Mingyu shovel Cinnabon bites into his mouth. “Want some?” Mingyu grins, talking through a large mouthful of fried dough and frosting.

Wonwoo tries oh so hard to fake disdain, but he breaks into a quiet laugh. He covers his face in his hands and places his forehead on the table. “You look so dumb,” he cracks a large smile as Mingyu finishes off the last of the bites. “You honestly look like a weird little squirrel.”

“What an honor to be compared to one of the cutest creatures in the animal kingdom,” Mingyu grins.

“Oh god,” Wonwoo throws his head back and lets out a huff of laughter. “Your little demon teeth ruin the cute squirrel vibes.”

Mingyu shakes his head. “Yeah whatever,” he crumbles up the cardboard container and tosses it into the trash can a few feet away. “Ballin.”

Wonwoo composes himself and rolls his eyes. “Can we please get back to the point?”

“For sure,” Mingyu nods. “Do you want anything before we go?”

Mingyu watches as Wonwoo looks over the menu, sharp eyes squinting, despite the thick glasses perched on the ridge of his almost perfectly straight nose. “Vanilla Latte?” He shrugs. “Are you buying?” He smiles and shoots Mingyu a pair of extremely awkward finger guns.

“Yup,” Mingyu replies, slapping a few bills and a massive amount of pennies on the counter. “I am the richest boy you’ll ever see.” He flexes his fake Louis Vitton wallet and smiles.

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, something Mingyu is becoming quite accustomed to. “Designer, fake or not,” he looks over his glasses pointedly at the wallet, “means nothing to a simple plebeian like me.”

“Nerd,” Mingyu laughs. “What could I do to impress you then,” he raises his eyebrows. “Other than being super rich, handsome and funny?”

“Now this will really take some thinking.” The older puts two fingers his temples and scrunches up his eyes. “Oh wow,” he says, opening his eyes and dropping his hands. “Almost nothing.” He grins widely at Mingyu’s annoyed expression. “Unless of course, you buy me a fucking microwave.”

Mingyu shakes his head. “I gotta say,” the barista slides Wonwoo’s drink across the counter and scrapes all of Mingyu’s pennies into the till. “You’re a complicated man, Hot Pocket.”

Wonwoo looks over the rim of his paper cup and takes a long sip of hot coffee. Mingyu can’t help but feel incredibly intimidated as the cup steams in Wonwoo’s face and he drinks the burning hot liquid without making a face. “So I’ve been told, Poke-Dick.”

  
  


Mingyu slaps the top of yet another microwave. “This bad boy can fit so many fucken bagel bites in it.” Despite the number of times he’s made the same joke, Wonwoo still lets out a snort.

“Is this one good?” Wonwoo asks, looking over the box and trying desperately to find a price tag.

“Nope,” Mingyu says, reading over the back of the box. “Another countertop model,” he sighs. Mingyu stares angrily at the box, “Freaking poser.” He looks out the corner of his eye to make sure he can see Wonwoo’s eyes wrinkle.

Mingyu likes to see Wonwoo smile. It's an odd thought, but before he’d gone and destroyed the man’s kitchen, the two had had very few interactions. Every time Mingyu had seen Wonwoo pre-Microwave Murder, the older had a frown, scowl, or general displeased look gracing his precise features. To Mingyu, Wonwoo smiling is a much better look than him frowning.

Wonwoo nods, sipping from his latte. “So we’ve got to go find another one?”

The taller man nods. “Unless we just want to duct tape this one to the hole over your stove. Which I’d be totally fine with by the way.”

The older shakes his head and rolls his eyes, again trying not to smile. Mingyu thinks he’s figured out when Wonwoo is actually annoyed, and when he pretends to be. It’s all in the wrinkles around his eyes. 

“Can we just please be done with this?” Wonwoo groans. “I really want to go home so I can study.”

Mingyu nods. He slaps the top of a box next to the previous microwave. “Mountable,” he reads off the top of the box.

“Mood,” Wonwoo drawls, taking a large sip of coffee. “Throw it in the cart.”

“You don’t want reviews?” Mingyu asks, cocking his head. The first few microwaves Wonwoo looked up online with a scary amount of depth and thoroughness

Wonwoo shrugs. “What I really want,” he sighs, “is to go home.”

Mingyu nods, sensing the unease in the older’s voice. “Ok.” 

They walk to the front of the store, where the young clerk seems surprised to have made such a large sale so early in the morning.

“Do you want food?” Mingyu asks gently as they walk out of the store. Wonwoo shakes his head and clutches the pair of oven mitts Mingyu insisted upon buying to his chest. “Is everything ok?” He stops to adjust the microwave in his arms, and Wonwoo keeps walking.

“I’m fine,” Wonwoo says quietly, sounding the opposite of fine. 

His eyes are out of focus, and Mingyu can see his breathing becoming shallow. “Hey,” Mingyu says, starting to worry. “Wonwoo, are you ok?”

Wonwoo nods quickly and sets the oven mitts on top of the box, averting his eyes from Mingyu’s gaze. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he says, quickly moving toward the sign that points to the bathrooms.

Mingyu follows after him, setting the heavy box on the ground, giving Wonwoo a few seconds before he knocks on the stall door where he sees the older’s grey, cracked Converse under the door, Wonwoo sitting cross-legged in the stall. The door pushes forward, a few centimeters, the older not having locked it. “Wonwoo I know something’s up.” There’s no response. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“You didn’t,” Wonwoo says quickly, voice echoing in the small tiled room. “I mean, sort of.”

“Oh,” Mingyu tries to laugh, but it comes out strangled and anxious. “That makes me feel a lot better.”

Wonwoo breathes deeply and pulls the door open a few more inches. Mingyu watches as Wonwoo wipes his face with the sleeve of his soft, yellow sweater. “I feel bad for being a dick to you,” Wonwoo sighs.

Mingyu furrows his eyebrows. “How so?”

“You’re buying me a fucking microwave because I guilted you into it.” Wonwoo sniffles and wipes his face again, inhaling rapidly and shaking. “I feel like an asshole.”

“Wonwoo,” Mingyu says firmly, sitting down across from him and bringing his long legs up to his chest. “I lit your kitchen on fire. I owe you a microwave.”

Wonwoo shakes his head and sniffles again. “It’s so expensive though.”

“I’m the richest boy,” Mingyu smiles, placing his hand on Wonwoo’s knee. “I’ve got this.”

“I have my own savings,” Wonwoo ignores Mingyu’s attempts at comfort and keeps sniffling. “I can deal with my own shit. Soonyoung and Junhui don’t even have to pitch in.” He inhales rapidly again and starts crying harder. “I just feel like you pity me because I cried and yelled at you at the party. I threw a big fit and now I’m getting my way.”

Mingyu shakes his head. “I’m not pitying you because you threw a fit, Wonwoo.” He grabs the older’s hand and squeezes it gently. “I’m helping you because what I did was a shitty, shitty thing.” He rubs his thumb over the back of Wonwoo’s hand, the veins moving under his soft touch. “I don’t want you to feel bad, and I’m so sorry that I seem to have a wonderful affinity for making you cry.”

Wonwoo sniffles, but looks through his straight lashes at Mingyu. “You also seem to have an affinity for making me feel better,” he smiles, looking down at the floor.

“Better?” Mingyu asks, tapping his thumb on the palm of Wonwoo’s hand.

The older looks back at Mingyu, tears welling in his eyes again. “This is gonna sound really stupid,” he says with a watery smile. “But I dropped my coffee on the way in here and now I’m like really fucking sad about that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "if people don't like this chapter I'm legit gonna cry I actually kinda like this one." -El  
> Sorry this chapter is *kinda* late, both of us got preoccupied with the million other things we've got going on! We hope you enjoy <3<3<3  
> GG and El


	6. How Do You Know What's Good For Me?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone! We're still alive! 
> 
> So first of all, it's certainly been a while. We haven't given up on this fic, but we did get very busy and had to prioritize other things. 
> 
> Secondly, the next few chapters are going to get into some more serious topics, specifically abuse and homophobia. We aren't going to be going into detail about these things, but please be warned that they are a part of this fic. 
> 
> But anyway, here's another chapter! Thank you to everyone who has been so supportive of this fic, we appreciate all of your comments, kudos, and kind thoughts! We love you all!
> 
> \- GG & El

Wonwoo may have lied to Mingyu, just a little bit. See the thing is, yeah, the price of the microwave did nearly give Wonwoo a heart attack, and he did feel bad about basically emotionally blackmailing Mingyu into buying him a new one, and he was sad about dropping his coffee, but those were only icing on top of a much more horrible cake. The real reason he broke down in a public bathroom texts him as they’re sitting down for lunch (which was supposed to be coffee but turned into more because Mingyu is always hungry and Wonwoo is _weak_ ).

**negaHOSH** : im so sorry about this morning

**negaHOSH:** i didn’t mean for you to find out like this, i was going to tell you

**negaHOSH** : are you okay?

**negaHOSH** : Won…

Another message appears, but Wonwoo doesn’t read it. Across the Formica tabletop, Mingyu shoots him a tentative smile, only a hint of those weirdly endearing eyeteeth showing between his lips. Wonwoo attempts to smile back, but apparently doesn’t quite manage it because the other boy’s brow furrows slightly. This expression of concern is one that Wonwoo is becoming quite familiar with the more time he spends with Mingyu. Mostly, it’s directed at him, and Wonwoo doesn’t really know how to feel about it. Brain goes: Stop _pitying_ me asshole. Heart goes: huurrng cute.

Mingyu doesn’t say anything, and the silence is starting to make Wonwoo feel physically ill. “So...” he tries, reaching for any thread of conversation but coming up empty. Wonwoo’s usually not this awkward, but the combination of crush, anger, and post-panic attack haze, is making things much harder than usual. 

His panic must register on his face because Mingyu just grins wryly and says, “You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to. I won’t be offended.” He takes a sip from his water and looks at Wonwoo through his eyelashes. Wonwoo’s breath catches.

“No, no,” He stammers, feeling a flush spread up his neck, “I _do_ want to talk to you, I just...” the flush goes higher, “I don’t really know what to say to the guy who just bought me a kitchen appliance and then basically carried me out of the bathroom after I freaked out about it.”

The smile on Mingyu’s face softens. “Well then don’t talk to that guy, just talk to your annoying as hell neighbor who's only here for the food.”

Wonwoo’s eyebrow raises almost unconsciously. “Are you sure you want me to do that?”

Mingyu’s eyes crinkle as he laughs. “Yeah man, go for it, whatever you’re gonna say, I can take it.”

Despite Mingyu’s reassurance, Wonwoo continues to flounder in the conversation department. “So, umm...” a bead of sweat trickles between his shoulder blades, “what’s your favorite movie?” He cringes as soon as the final word leaves his mouth. 

This time, it’s Mingyu’s eyebrow that arches. “Are you sure you want to know that? You look like you’re about to have a stroke.” 

“Oh shut up,” Wonwoo rolls his eyes, still blushing probably, “I’m trying.” He shrugs, pulls the sleeves of his sweater over his hands, and admits, “I’m not very good at this.” 

“You’re not very good at... getting lunch?” Mingyu says skeptically.

“No dumbass,” Wonwoo tries to snap, but he’s pretty sure it sounds entirely too fond to hold any annoyance, “I’m not good at, well,” he lowers his gaze to his fingers, busy picking at a loose yellow string, “I don’t know, making friends, I guess.” 

Mingyu doesn’t say anything and Wonwoo is afraid of what he’ll see in his expression. Eventually, Mingyu’s voice breaks the silence, soft and pleased, “Are we friends?” 

Wonwoo dares to look up, and is greeted with the biggest, toothiest, most blinding smile he has ever seen in his life. His blush returns in full force and he immediately over corrects, “No!” Mingyu’s smile just widens impossibly, “I mean, yes, maybe.” Wonwoo feels like his face is on fire. “I don’t know if we’re friends, per se, but um...” he clears his throat, avoiding direct eye contact with Mingyu’s spotlight smile, “I think, I _hope_ , maybe we can be someday. Soon.”

“Well, for the record,” Mingyu replies, chewing contentedly on his straw (which on anyone else would be unforgivably disgusting, but _horrifyingly_ , Wonwoo doesn’t really mind it that much if it’s Mingyu), “I want to be your friend too.” The bored waitress returns and plunks their two plates down in front of them. “I also don’t think you're that bad at making friends. I mean,” he shoves a handful of fries in his mouth and waggles his eyebrows lecherously, “I’m here aren’t I?” 

Though Wonwoo rolls his eyes, he can feel the grin spreading across his face. “Yeah, and why is that? Please remind me. Oh right, you drunkenly set my microwave on fire. What a great, easy way to make friends.” Feeling strangely brave, Wonwoo reaches across the table and steals a fry off Mingyu’s plate, finishing with, “honestly, I should try that more often,” before popping the fry directly into his mouth, maintaining eye contact with Mingyu the whole time.

The betrayed look on his face is enough to send Wonwoo into a fit of laughter, and for a moment, things seem a lot brighter. 

Lunch passes too quickly, and before Wonwoo can register it, he and Mingyu are parting ways in front of their neighboring houses. With every step the taller boy takes away from him, the lingering brightness fades a little until Wonwoo is standing at his own front door, stomach churning with fear, anger, and something that feels a lot like desperation. Hands shaking, he slides the key into the lock and opens the door, wincing when the under-oiled hinge squeaks loudly. 

“Wonwoo, you’re back,” Jun says from his position on the couch. He’s got this look in his eyes like he’s watching a particularly skittish animal, and Wonwoo suspects that Soonyoung told him what happened this morning. “How was the mall?”

“Did you know?”

Jun doesn’t answer for a long time, just sits on the couch thumbing at a battered magazine. His silence is answer enough for Wonwoo. “Won,” Jun sighs, “You know he didn’t mean to …”

“Didn’t mean to what?” Any bit of joy and goodwill that remained from Wonwoo’s interactions with Mingyu is completely gone, and all Wonwoo can do is explode. All he can do is flay himself open and let all his hurt and anger drip spill out like blood from a wound. “He didn’t mean to lie to me about the reason he went on all those vacations with Jihoon? He didn’t mean to hide all the paperwork from me so I wouldn’t find out that he was moving? He didn’t mean to tell you that he had decided to bail on us? He didn’t mean to conveniently forget to tell me any of this?” Jun’s face has gone pale and strained, his nervous fidgeting stilled completely. “He didn’t mean any of that shit?” Wonwoo is spitting now, angrier than he has ever felt in his entire life. “You both fucking lied to me, Jun.”

The other man flinches and opens his mouth to say something, but Wonwoo would rather do anything but hear what he has to say. He slams the door to interrupt Jun’s words. 

“The mall was fine,” Wonwoo manages to growl out before practically running across the room and taking the stairs two at a time. He reaches the sanctuary of his room and sits heavily on the end of his bed. The room seems too small. The walls, bare and empty save for a few posters of things Wonwoo casually liked a few years ago, constrict around him until he can’t breathe. In his back pocket, his phone buzzes again. 

**negaHOSH:** I really want to talk to you about this 

**negaHOSH:** please Won let me make this right

Wonwoo doesn’t cry. He breathes deeply and feels nothing except tired. So he falls asleep and doesn’t dream of anything.

Days pass in quick succession, Soonyoung and Jun tiptoeing with frustrating caution around Wonwoo. Despite his constant texts, Soonyoung doesn’t approach Wonwoo to talk to him about the issue, and Wonwoo feels like he’s going crazy. To be fair, Wonwoo hasn’t done anything to bring it up either, but he hopes (feeling both selfish and a little resentful) that Soonyoung would be the one to break the silence. 

Sometimes, when Wonwoo is lying in bed, his back against the wall adjoining Soonyoung’s room, he is struck by the terrifying understanding that he’s probably overreacting. Soonyoung is a grown adult, with a life and a job and a loving boyfriend, and Wonwoo has absolutely no right to be acting the way he is about Soonyoung’s decision. Usually right after that realization he moves on to the next logical leap in understanding: if Wonwoo keeps shutting Soonyoung out, he’s going to lose the last of the time they have together because he can’t handle the fact that his best friend is leaving. 

So Wonwoo lays in bed, never quite falling asleep, just calculating how many days he still has Soonyoung for, straining to hear the other’s distinctive snore through the wall that separates them, and feeling like the shittiest person alive for acting like Soonyoung belongs to him. During the day, Wonwoo skates through his classes, stumbles his way through the workday, and doesn’t talk to either of his roommates because he’s a goddamn coward. 

The only reason Wonwoo doesn’t lose his entire _fucking_ mind is Mingyu. 

Wonwoo doesn’t have many people who he can talk to about stuff, that list is limited to Soonyoung and Jun. The current conversational ice age that has enveloped the house makes any talking difficult to nonexistent, and in any other circumstance, Wonwoo would be left to stew in silence, thoughts spinning out of control with no outlet. But the circumstances are different now because Wonwoo has Mingyu, which is weird for a couple reasons. 

First of all, talking with Mingyu is weird because _Mingyu_ is weird. And listen, Wonwoo thought he knew weird. _He’s_ weird, Jun and Soonyoung are _really_ weird, but good god, Mingyu is weird on a level that Wonwoo just cannot comprehend. 

Mingyu loves memes, which isn’t that strange, but the way he collects them seems borderline serial killer-y. He showed Wonwoo his carefully cultivated folders once, which are organized on his phone by genre, spiciness, pixel count, and something just called “how much dick energy they got.” Mingyu was entirely too enthusiastic about his system, but it was worth having to experience all of the awful surrealist memery that Mingyu put him through to see the younger man’s excited grin.

Wonwoo also finds out that Mingyu’s house not having a fridge? Not a lie. He went over to the Xu-Jung-Kim-Jeon-Lee Household (Mingyu made him memorize the exact order of that name on a trip to the grocery store once) and found out that every perishable food item is stored in buckets full of ice in the basement, which also happens to be where Jungkook sleeps. Wonwoo almost left when he watched Jaehyun wordlessly pull out an entire ham from a half-melted gallon bucket and place it ever so gently on Jungkook’s shirtless and unconscious form. Wonwoo’s pretty sure that Jungkook’s shriek could be heard for miles, but Mingyu just laughed and held his roommate back from swinging a frozen ham at Jaehyun’s head while Wonwoo tried to not gawk at Mingyu’s biceps. 

Also, whenever they hang out, Mingyu just gives him stuff. So far, the list of things Wonwoo has received from Mingyu goes like this: 

  1. A package of shrimp-flavored ramen
  2. A book about food
  3. A cell phone charm of a cat that Mingyu said reminded him of Wonwoo
  4. A package of chicken-flavored ramen after Mingyu found out that Wonwoo can’t eat seafood
  5. A book about Greek mythology (it was at this point that Wonwoo tried to insist that Mingyu stop wasting his money buying him books, but Mingyu just brushed it off and said something about getting a discount for working at the bookstore and refused to let Wonwoo speak of it again)
  6. A flower crown that Mingyu made out of dandelions he found while they walked to the corner store to buy chips
  7. Another book (this time a pulpy romance novel with a shirtless man on the front cover) 
  8. Two more books (both entries in a YA series Wonwoo mentioned having enjoyed in high school)
  9. A sticker of a frowny cactus saying “don’t touch me”
  10. One more book (a mystery novel set in Wyoming)



Wonwoo guards all these gifts jealously and a little bit fearfully. 

Because the other weird thing about being friends with Mingyu is that Wonwoo doesn’t want to be _just friends_. Every time Mingyu smiles in his direction, or sends him a meme about cats saying it reminded him of something Wonwoo had done, or shyly hands over a paperback with the phrase “I don’t know, I thought you’d like it,” a tiny burst of hurt shoots through Wonwoo because he _knows_ that it’s just Mingyu being friendly. He’s just naturally that kind and funny and attentive (everything Wonwoo isn’t), and once again Wonwoo has staked some sort of claim to someone he has absolutely no right attaching himself to. Just like he did with Soonyoung. Inevitably it all comes back around to this. Wonwoo is a selfish asshole who doesn’t deserve to be friends with people as good as Soonyoung (or Mingyu). 

However, despite the conflict raging within him, Wonwoo can’t ever find it within himself to deny Mingyu anything. He doesn’t want to risk losing this tentative thing they share just because Wonwoo can’t control his weird issues. So Wonwoo just stays silent and listens to Mingyu rant, trying to stifle the growing smile that is apparently just a side effect of being around the younger boy. Wonwoo is well versed at hiding his true feelings from other people. Or at least, he _thought_ he was.

“Hey, are you okay?” Mingyu says once as they’re sitting down at a cute little cafe that Mingyu’s roommate recommended (Mingyu assured Wonwoo that despite his many faults, Seokmin has fantastic taste in coffee). “You seem upset.” Apparently Mingyu can see right through him, which is. . . _interesting_. 

Wonwoo’s grip on his mug tightens to an almost painful degree. He _wants_ to tell Mingyu about Soonyoung, he _wants_ to ask him what he should do, he _wants_ Mingyu to understand why this is such a big deal for him, but he says nothing. Wonwoo wants a lot of things, but he’s pretty sure he doesn’t deserve any of them. And Mingyu sure as hell doesn’t deserve the herculean task of trying to shift through all of Wonwoo’s bullshit. 

“No,” Wonwoo finally says, throat scratchy with guilt, “I’m fine, just tired.” 

He’s pretty sure Mingyu doesn’t believe him, but he lets it go with a simple, “Okay, well, just let me know if you need anything.” 

Even though they live right next to each other, they’re both busy college students. With work, school, or the lacrosse practices that Mingyu attends every evening, there are some days they only see each other in passing.

They talk on the phone a lot to make up for this. Calling Mingyu pales in comparison to the real thing, but Wonwoo wouldn’t trade it for the world. In fact, three weeks into their budding friendship, Wonwoo has become so used to their late-night conversations that when his phone buzzes on the nightstand by his bedside, Wonwoo picks it up immediately, not even checking the ID. 

“Wonwoo,” says a voice that is definitely not Mingyu’s, “you need to come home as soon as you can.”

Fuck.

“Can you hear me, Wonwoo?” Bohyuk doesn’t sound happy, which to be fair, Wonwoo understands. They didn’t exactly part ways under happy circumstances, so Wonwoo gets why Bohyuk sounds like he’s being force-fed a spoonful of shit. 

It takes all of Wonwoo’s self-control not to either 1) laugh into the receiver or 2) just hang up without saying anything. He doesn’t do either of those things though. It’s been around five years since Wonwoo talked to his little brother, and Bohyuk deserves at least a couple minutes. “What do you want?” Wonwoo spits out from between his teeth.

There’s a long, disappointed sigh at the other end of the line and it sounds so much like their mother that Wonwoo almost throws his cell phone across the room. “Look, you know I wouldn’t call unless something was really wrong.” That tracks, Wonwoo had to find out from Facebook that Bohyuk had gotten engaged a couple months ago. “Dad’s in the hospital, and they,” he sighs again, this time sounding actually emotional and not like a manipulative piece of garbage, “they don’t think he’s going to make it much longer.”

“Well that sucks.”

“ _Wonwoo_!” Bohyuk bites, and it’s almost like Wonwoo is back in his childhood bedroom, pressed in the crack between his bed and the wall in the hopes that his dad won’t find him there. 

Anger that Wonwoo thought was long dead writhes back to life, festering and terrible, in the pit of his stomach. “What do you want me to say, Bohyuk?” he hisses, “That I’m just going to leave this all behind and race to the bedside of the man who kicked me out of my own home?”

Bohyuk sputters, “Look, I know you and Dad didn’t have a good relationship, but it will be good for you to face...” 

Wonwoo almost snarls into the phone. “How do you know what’s good for me? The last conversation I had with our father ended with him telling me that if he ever saw me again, he would beat the shit out of me. I don’t exactly think a few platitudes are going to change that, deathbed or not.”

“Okay,” the placating tone that Bohyuk has adopted does jack shit to soothe Wonwoo’s agitation, “okay, but Mom really wants you to be here.”

“Does she really?” Wonwoo is unmistakably sarcastic, “Or do _you_ want me there so that your less-than-acceptable engagement can pale in comparison your depraved homosexual wreck of an older brother?” 

There’s a long moment of silence and Wonwoo hopes that Bohyuk has just given up, but his brother speaks again, voice tired and sounding much older than his years, “Please, just come home for a few days. Everyone is going to be there, so you don’t even have to talk to Mom if you don’t want to. I just…” Bohyuk’s voice cracks and Wonwoo’s resolve with it, “Dad is _dying_ , and I’d just really appreciate it if you would come. If not for Mom, then maybe for me.” 

Wonwoo is horse and strangled as he answers, “I’ll be there on Thursday.”

Three days after the call, Wonwoo boards a train. Bohyuk somehow convinced their mother to let Wonwoo stay in the guest room (which used to be Wonwoo’s room anyways, but was completely sterilized after his parents found out that he preferred kissing boys), so despite the fact that Wonwoo swore he would never go back, he somehow ends up at the front stoop of his childhood home. 

They’ve painted the porch, Wonwoo realizes, the thought crossing his mind with such normalcy that he almost laughs. His mother is waiting for him. He can see her silhouette, unchanged after all these years, lurking behind the door’s frosted glass paneling. 

“Shit,” Wonwoo mutters, running a hand through his hair, “shit, shit, shit.” Panic begins to well up within him, repressed memories and old anxieties returning like a vengeance, and Wonwoo feels like he’s sixteen and terrified again.

He misses his best friend. He’s standing here, frozen, in front of the site of some of his worst experiences, and somehow all he can see is a ten-year-old Soonyoung, arm in a cast because he fell out of Wonwoo’s treehouse a week ago. He sees Soonyoung, older now, hair dyed a tacky blue, storming down the steps of this very porch, swearing he’ll punch Mr. Jeon if he ever hits Wonwoo again. He sees Soonyoung on the first day of second grade, handing Wonwoo that fucking bracelet and promising to be friends forever. 

Wonwoo pulls out his phone and scrolls shakily through his texts. His breath seems louder than normal as he taps on Soonyoung’s nickname, pulling up the stagnant text chain that hasn’t changed since the last time Soonyoung begged for a chance to explain himself. 

**Woo-Hoo:** Soonyoung

His fingers feel stiff, like they’re covered in a thin layer of ice, and he stops for a moment, not really knowing how to say what he wants to say. 

**Woo-Hoo:** I just want you to know that I am so happy for you. Jihoon is an amazing person and even though I don’t think anyone deserves you, he comes pretty damn close. I hope your new place is comfortable and that once I get back you’ll show me all the pictures I know you took of it. 

Even just the act of typing out his thoughts makes Wonwoo feel a little more real. For the past few days, he’s been drifting through life like a ghost, like a hollow outline of himself. Everything that he’s wanted to say to Soonyoung had been bottled up and pushed down and letting it all out feels like a breath of air after weeks under water. 

**Woo-Hoo:** Thank you for sharing so much of your life with me. I have loved every second of knowing you. I’m sorry that I've been avoiding talking about this, and I want to let you know that I forgive you for not telling me (even though I’m not sure you ever really needed forgiveness). 

**Woo-Hoo:** I’m going to miss you a lot. 

**Woo-Hoo:** I love you, Soonie

Wonwoo lets out a deep, shuddering breath and puts his phone back in his pocket. The house seems smaller now; it doesn’t loom over him like it did before. His mother’s shadow behind the glass moves away, and the door opens, revealing Bohyuk in the doorway. 

Things are going to be okay.

Wonwoo breaths in and holds the March-cold air in his lungs. 

Bohyuk calls his name. Wonwoo releases the breath in one whoosh and takes the first step up the stairs towards his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Welcome to the first chapter in which Wonwoo doesn't cry! 
> 
> Please feel free to leave comments if you notice any errors, or if you just want to ask a question or say something to us! We love hearing from you! 
> 
> \- GG & El


	7. The Only Thing I'm Gay for is Pussy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: this chapter deals fairly heavily with anxiety and internalized homophobia/biphobia. If any of these issues are danger zones for you, please let us know and we'll be sure to provide a summary in the comments. This story has certainly become a little more serious than we initially thought it would, and we want to make sure that everyone is safe and comfortable while reading this. Love you all!  
> \- GG and El

The Xu-Jung-Kim-Jeon-Lee Household is unusually quiet. Mingyu looks around their messy living room and sighs. If only his housemates would get their shit together and fucking clean.

“This is why we can’t have parties here,” he grumbles under his breath, kicking a pile of laundry on the floor. “This is why we have to rely on Soonyoung and Junhui.”

A skinny arm slithers around his waist and he jumps. “But isn’t it so fun to rely on them?” Minghao laughs and nuzzles his face into Mingyu’s back. “You’re in charge, I’m getting food for tonight.”

Mingyu wriggles free of his best friend and turns around to actually see him. “Do we really have to do this?”

Minghao shrugs. “It’s Saturday tradition that we party, and if Junhui and Soonyoung can’t provide, well then,” he trails off with a shrug.

“We get blackout drunk on cheap tequila and eat pizza until we’re sick?” Mingyu supplies.

The lithe man smiles and grabs his keys off the table. “Let me know if you can’t find the third couch cushion.”

“I think Jungkook and I ripped that one up surfing down the stairs last month,” Mingyu says, fully expecting a tirade for being irresponsible.

Minghao, pulling the door open laughs. “That was from the loveseat downstairs. Call me!” He grins and slams the door closed, leaving Mingyu in an empty, horribly messy house.

It’s not exactly that he’s lonely, or at least Mingyu would never admit that to anyone, but the house being empty for the day is something he isn’t used to. He and his housemates had chosen schedules for this semester that just aligned in a way that at least two of them were there at any given time.

Mingyu hadn’t exactly chosen his classes so he could spend more time with his friends, but he had kept in mind that after this year, the house would be switching its occupants, and a few of them were planning to move away. 

Jaehyun’s things are already half gone, stashed in Taeyong’s apartment where they all have guessed he’ll be moving next year. If all things go well with Taehyung, Jungkook will be out soon after him, and Minghao, well something tells Mingyu that his best friend is going to be boo-ed up soon enough.

It’s just a matter of time until Mingyu is all alone in this house, still living off his monthly allowance from his parents, still paying his way through school with his shitty job cleaning the school bookstore on weekends.

Having the day to himself seemed like a blessing when he woke up, but now, sitting in the middle of the kitchen sorting through their mess of recycling, he realizes that he just misses talking to his friends. 

Wonwoo, of course, is included in. Though he only lives a few doors down, sometimes the older is so unreachable. Mingyu knows he’s home for the weekend, a few days after that as well, but he can’t help but be confused by the texts, or lack thereof, that he’s getting from Wonwoo.

His relationship with Wonwoo is one he never expected. Hell, before that fateful, smoky night, he’d seen the man only once or twice. Mingyu never really talked to any of the residents of that house, except in passing, and he never in all of his nineteen, nearly twenty, years of life, though he would find such great friendship within those walls. All that needed to be done was break the ice, or rather, their most used kitchen appliance.

Wonwoo, of course, is his newest challenge. Keeping the older out of his head is damn near impossible sometimes, and Mingyu has found himself rambling about him for minutes on end to anyone who will listen. His roommates won’t stop and shooting glances at one another, and frankly, it’s getting to Mingyu.

Everyone else in the Xu-Jung-Kim-Jeon-Lee Household has kissed, fucked, or dated a boy, and while Mingyu has absolutely no quarrel with that, he can’t help but feel that his roommates are trying to induct him into their little, “Gaggle of Gays,” or, “Queer Quartet.” Mingyu loves them all dearly, but at every mention he makes of Wonwoo, the other boys start cooing and talking about his, “Big, Fat Gay Crush.”

It’s just tiring, is all. To be cooped up all day with the guys he loves and have them make fun of having friends outside the house. 

And it’s not some sort of “Gay Crisis,” like they all make it out to be. Mingyu knows he likes girls, he’s dated more girls than he’d like to admit, and (nearly) all of them were relationships he enjoyed. He’s not hiding some super secret part of himself deep within, that’s stupid. And no, he’s not ignoring it because he thinks his parents would be upset. Mingyu’s parents are way too kind and loving for that sort of thing. Just the other day on the phone, when Mingyu mentioned Wonwoo for the third or fourth time, his mother politely asked if the two were fucking. 

Not only did Mingyu physically wretch at his mother asking him if he and his best friend were fucking, he also choked on the prospect that other people actually thought that. Not only his roommates, the people that live with him and have seen his interactions with Wonwoo, but the woman that pushed Mingyu out of her, think he is interested in Wonwoo.

Sure, Wonwoo is attractive. Mingyu has lived in a household of attractive guys for long enough to pick one out. Wonwoo is exactly like each of them in his own way. He has Jungkook’s puffy hair, Seokmin’s sharp features, Minghao’s thin figure and Jaehyun’s milky skin, but he is also so unique in his beauty.

In the past few weeks, Mingyu has had ample opportunity to look at the older, just look. Wonwoo isn’t great with conversation, and when the two do hang out, their meetings are generally filled with long silences, and Mingyu just looks at him. He is really quite beautiful, with his long nose and thin wrists, and even more than being pretty, he’s so damn smart.

Mingyu isn’t great at school, and in every class he’s been in, he’s had to work. Never hard enough to warrant him being concerned about passing, but hard enough to know that school isn’t his greatest strength. Wonwoo is shitty at passing some of his classes, as Mingyu has come to find out. But the two classes he has failed were for the dumbest reasons. Wonwoo can pick apart a situation into immaculate detail, quote random shows and books for hours, and while Mingyu knows what people are thinking, he can never quite crack that beautiful brain of Wonwoo’s. 

His musings on Wonwoo just make him sadder about this weekend’s situation. He’s stuck in a house full of his gay friends that think he’s in the middle of some sort of “Gay Crisis.” He wishes he could pull out his phone and call Wonwoo, just hear his voice and let him know that any time he wants to talk, Mingyu is ready and waiting. Mingyu just wishes he had an excuse to pick up his phone, maybe a really good meme Wonwoo would like, or a song recommendation or funny anecdote about his roommates. But Mingyu is in the house, bored, alone, and not in the mood for memes.

He stares sadly at an empty Sprite bottle on the ground for a while, not moving, not feeling much other than emptiness. After a while, a knock on the door rouses him from his gawking, and he gets up. As he walks to the front door, he feels coolness on his cheek, realizing a slow stream of tears has worked its way down his neck and onto the front of his shirt.

He pulls open the door, ruffling his bangs as he does so, and puts on a (somewhat) convincing smile. “Hey,” he says, not really registering who it is.

“Hi,” comes a breathless voice. Mingyu shivers. “Chilly isn’t it?” Soonyoung smiles and scrunches his red nose. “Do you have a sec?”

He’s off, Mingyu can tell. Before thinking for a second, he spits out, “Is Wonwoo okay?”

Soonyoung’s smile falters for a second before he nods slowly. “I think so, or at least I hope. He’s at his family’s and he hasn’t been talking to Jun or me, and I just thought,” he trails off, a slight plea in his voice. “I’m sorry if you’re busy, I just really want to make sure he’s doing ok.”

“I’m not busy,” Mingyu says, pulling the door open and sniffling. The tears in his eyes won’t seem to go away, and if anything, this news has made them increase. 

Soonyoung follows Mingyu inside, placing his hand on Mingyu’s shoulder tentatively. “Shit, Mingyu are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu says, lying. “I just am having a rough day.”

The older man sits beside Mingyu on the couch, not even flinching at the boxers near his leg. “Do you need anything? Maybe some water?”

Mingyu shakes his head. “I’m just going to call Wonwoo.”

“I’m sure that will make you feel better,” Soonyoung says soothingly, patting Mingyu’s arm, in an only slightly awkward fashion. “Do you mind texting me to tell me what he says?”

The tall man shrugs. “You can just stay if you want, I don’t have anything else to be doing.” Something inside of Mingyu wishes Soonyoung would stay. He doesn’t know the man particularly well, but if he’s as wonderful as Wonwoo says, then maybe he can help Mingyu feel better.

Soonyoung looks at Mingyu and nods slightly. “If you’re ok with it, I’d like to stay.”

Mingyu sighs and pulls out his phone. He clicks on Wonwoo’s contact, the thing he’s been aching to do all day, and clicks the call button carefully, almost like pressing it too hard could have some effect on the older’s response.

After several, long, horrible moments where Mingyu thinks Wonwoo really won’t answer, the call picks up, and Wonwoo’s quiet, low voice reverberates in Mingyu’s ear. “Hey?” He asks, confusion plain in his voice. “Sorry, Mingyu this isn’t really the best time.”

“Hey Wonwoo, yeah I know, I’m sorry.” Mingyu melts into the call, his lungs filling more than they have the past day and his worries dripping away. “Soonyoung stopped by and I thought I should call.”

The older doesn’t respond for a moment and Mingyu can hear someone on the other end whispering loudly. “It’s a friend from school, leave me alone.” Mingyu wrinkles his brows. The voice on the other end gets louder, but Mingyu can’t understand what’s being said. “Mom, I’m fine, you’re fine just continue doing what you were doing.” Wonwoo pauses and his mother lets out something indistinguishable in a scathing tone. “Yeah? Well then maybe you shouldn’t have begged for me to come home.”

“Is everything ok, Wonwoo?” Mingyu asks, worried about the older. 

He says nothing back in return for a few moments before breathing deeply and saying slowly, “It’s really good to hear from you, Gyu.”

Mingyu inhales at the tiredness in his voice, the wariness coursing through his sentence, but mostly, how easily the nickname rolls off his tongue. “It’s so good to hear from you, Wonu.” Mingyu means it, he really does. After two nights of not seeing Wonwoo, after today, after texting Wonwoo so little it hurt, hearing his voice just felt so good. “And you’re doing ok?”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo says softly. “Yeah, you can tell Soonyoung that I’m doing ok.”

“Why haven’t you been responding to them, to everyone?” _To me_ , Mingyu thinks, but he keeps that selfish thought unsaid.

Wonwoo clears his throat. “You know I can’t really talk right now, but I’ll text you soon, okay? I have to go, bye Gyu, see you soon.”

The finality in this makes Mingyu get it. Wonwoo’s hiding. There’s something that he hasn’t opened up about, countless things probably. Things that Mingyu yearns to hear Wonwoo talk about, to tell him everything in his beautiful brain, to lay out every detail and thought. But he doesn’t tell Wonwoo that. Instead, he smiles silently at Soonyoung and exhales. “I’ll see you soon, Wonu.”

Every time Soonyoung gets up to leave, Mingyu breaks down again. He feels terrible, he really does, but there’s something about him being there that grounds Mingyu slightly. Just enough that he can keep it together until the boys get back. 

“Hello bitch,” Jungkook yells, the door handle cracking against the wall. The man throws his arms wide and puts on a dramatic face, flaring his nostrils. “Guess who’s back,” Jungkook starts to sing, grocery bags dangling from his arms. 

Soonyoung winces beside Mingyu and shakes his head. 

“Oh hey Soonyoung,” Jungkook smiles, dropping the groceries on the floor. He struts around the room, screaming at the top of his lungs, “Back again. Jungkook’s back, tell a friend.” He stops, swiveling toward Mingyu and throws back his head, dropping his terrible Eminem impersonation. “Except you can’t tell anyone cause you don’t have any fucking friends lmao!”

Mingyu has had a long day. It’s been so long, quiet and stressful and he feels terrible, he really does, but he can’t stop himself. At Jungkook’s words, he breaks into sobs, sinking back into the couch. Soonyoung uncertainly reaches around him and starts trying to calm him down for the millionth time that day, but Mingyu can’t fucking deal with this.

“Oh shit,” Jungkook says, rushing toward them. “Mingyu are you ok?” Mingyu can feel the couch shake as Jungkook leaps onto it and throws himself around Mingyu. “What can I do?” Mingyu just whimpers and nuzzles into Jungkook’s familiar shoulder. “Hey, Mingus, it's gonna be ok, everyone’s gonna be home in a bit.” Jungkook pushes him away and smiles, shaking him like he’s trying to console a toddler saying, “I got you pizza Mingyu, isn’t that fun?”

Mingyu laughs through his tears. Fuck, he’s going to miss these losers. “Yeah, Kookie that sounds great.” He takes a few deep breaths and leans back into the couch.

Soonyoung rubs his knee and clears his throat. “Do you need me to help you with the groceries, Jungkook?”

Jungkook nods and grins, his bunny teeth on full display. “That would be really great, Soonyoung, thanks.”

The oldest nods and scoops the bags off of the ground, heading into the kitchen. Mingyu and Jungkook wait for the inevitable, and after a moment, a confused Soonyoung walks slowly out of the kitchen. “Um, I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do with all this stuff? Like, do you have a refrigerator or?” He trails off, gesturing to their wrecked kitchen.

“Oh yeah, no, we don’t,” Jungkook says, laughing. He pulls Mingyu in and gives him a tight squeeze, kissing him quickly on the forehead. Before Mingyu has a chance to protest, Jungkook does it a second time. “And before you say anything, Gyu dearest,” Jungkook says with a wink, “Full homo.”

He traipses off to the kitchen, leaving Mingyu alone once more. Before he has a chance to start crying, Soonyoung returns and places his arm gently around him. “Your roommate is interesting,” he says, raising his eyebrows, and rubbing Mingyu’s arm.

Mingyu feels weird. Aside from parties and in passing, he hasn’t ever spoken to Soonyoung. A few times at Wonwoo’s when he was picking him up for a hangout session, and a few times when they were getting mail at the same time, but he doesn’t know this guy. Mingyu sniffles and finds himself inexplicably drawn to Soonyoung’s warm side, and he lays his head on his shoulder. “Is this weird?” He asks after a moment.

“Nah,” Soonyoung smiles, squeezing Mingyu’s arm. “You’re just a big puppy that needs some love.”

“I’m not a puppy,” Mingyu protests. 

Soonyoung laughs, his eyes turning into happy crescents. “I’m glad you’re not a dick, Mingyu.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Mingyu cackles, his head shaking and nearly clocking Soonyoung in the jaw.

“I mean that it’s nice that Wonwoo can get out of the house and be with someone as sweet as you.” Soonyoung smiles. “He’s a great guy, I’m sure you get that.”

Jungkook slides, literally slides in his socks back into the room and throws up a very awkward pair of finger guns. “Sorry to break up this heartwarming moment,” he says, tossing himself onto a cushion laying on the ground, “but the pizzas are in the oven and Minghao’s on his way back with the booze.”

“So this is what you guys do when Junhui and I can’t host?” Soonyoung looks around. “How do you throw a party in this mess?”

“Offering to clean, Choi?” Jungkook asks lazily. 

Soonyoung wrinkles his brows and cocks his head. “You know that’s not my name, right?”

“It was a guess,” Jungkook shrugs, turning the tiny TV on to some obscure History Channel show. “I have spoken to you twice in my life.”

Soonyoung shrugs and turns his attention back to Mingyu. “Are you going to be ok, or do you need me to stay?”

Mingyu wants to lie and say he’s fine. His friends are coming back, he’s going to get drunk, and everything is going to be ok. But Soonyoung is nice. He’s sweet, and kind, and something inside Mingyu just wants him to stay. 

“The long lack of response means he wants you to stay,” Jungkook drawls, glancing out of the corners of his eyes. “You’re more than welcome to it,” he says, softer, realizing how close Mingyu is to crying again.

Soonyoung pulls Mingyu closer and nods. “I’m going to have to make a call in a few minutes but I’m good to stay for the um,” he side-eyes Jungkook and rolls his eyes, “party,” he finishes with a sigh.

“You don’t have to,” Mingyu says softly, picking at a thread in his worn sweats. “Jungkook and the guys will be here, and I’ll be okay.” He can’t help but let his voice get a little shaky. 

“I want to stay,” Soonyoung says soothingly. “I would love to get to know you and your friends.”

A few hours later, the house is again filled with the riotous noise that Mingyu is used to. He grins as Jungkook takes an eighth slice of pizza and throws himself onto a sleepy Seokmin. “Mingyu is sad,” Seokmin says for the third time, his words with the beginnings of a very drunken slur. “Kookie why is Mingyu sad?”

“Shut up,” Mingyu says, hitting Seokmin’s thigh. “I’m not sad, I’m getting drunk.”

Soonyoung eyes the exchange but continues talking to Minghao, sipping every once in a while from his solo cup.

Jaehyun perks up next to Mingyu, the ending screen of an anime blasting out of their shitty TV speakers. “Is it about that guy?”

“Dude shut the fuck up,” Seokmin whines as Jungkook adjusts his position on top of him. 

Jungkook muffles Seokmin’s protests with his hand and cringes as the other licks it. “Ew fuck you, Seok. Jaehyun fuck you too man, we’re having a fun time and we have a guest.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen and he nods, his solo cup tipping in his hand. “I understand,” he puts up a pointer finger and coughs as he takes a sip of something clear and very cheap, “Keep his Big Fat Gay Crush on the DL.”

Mingyu smashes his palm to his forehead and takes a sip out of Jungkook’s abandoned glass. He knew this night was going to suck. His day sucked, so how could his night be any different. “Can you just fucking shut up about this shit? I’m not fucking gay,” he hisses at Jaehyun. “Just because you are all gay doesn’t mean I have to be.”

The room goes quiet at his outburst and Jungkook finally clears his throat. “We know you like pussy or whatever, fuck Mingyu it’s just a joke.”

“We didn’t mean it,” Seokmin adds on, struggling under Jungkook. “I guess we all just thought you were, um,” he goes quiet. 

Minghao apologizes to Soonyoung and gets up, moving towards Mingyu. “Hey Gyu, can I get a word with you upstairs for a sec?” He smiles at the rest of the room and leads Mingyu up the large staircase to the landing outside Mingyu’s bedroom. He rounds on Mingyu and shakes his head. “I know you’re not having a great day, but we’re just trying to have a nice evening.”

Mingyu feels like shit. He’s felt like shit all day, and he knows that Minghao yelling at him is going to make him feel exponentially worse. “I’m sorry,” he says, hanging his head and willing the tears brewing in his eyes to just stay put. “I didn’t mean to make anyone feel bad, I just… Fuck Minghao,” he shakes his head and wipes his nose with the back of his hand. “I don’t know what’s going on with me today.”

“Hey,” Minghao says soothingly, grabbing Mingyu’s hand and slowly wrapping him in a hug. “I know you haven’t been feeling good since Wonwoo left,” he raises his eyebrows when he sees Mingyu’s face turn stony and he shushes him. “Wonwoo is your new best friend, and if you tell me you don’t like him like that, then I get it.” He wipes a tear off Mingyu’s face and brushes his bangs off his forehead. “We just can all see how much you care about him and thought there might be something more.”

Mingyu shakes his head. “There’s nothing more,” he says quickly. “He just kinda,” he shakes his head, the words jumbled and confusing in his head. “He sort of wormed his way into my brain and he won’t go away.” 

He looks to Minghao and hopes the other boy will understand. Minghao’s face is nearly unreadable. “Well maybe you just need to spend some quality time with your new best friend.” Minghao smiles as he says, “new best friend,” and Mingyu rolls his eyes. 

“He’s not replacing you, Hao.” He hugs the smaller man tightly. “You’ve been with me forever; I could never replace you like that.”

Minghao huffs dramatically and pulls back, pouting. “You’re sure?”

“One hundred percent,” Mingyu laughs, embracing him again. “I promise.”

“So what’s up with Soonyoung being here?” Minghao asks, his voice muffled in Mingyu’s chest. 

Mingyu can’t answer that question. He really doesn’t get why the older is so fucking calming and nice, and Mingyu just relaxes around him. 

Minghao answers his own question before Mingyu can respond. “His aura is just kinda addicting, isn’t it?”

“Bro,” Mingyu exclaims, “You too? I don’t know what it is, he’s like a human serotonin pill. It’s crazy.”

“I talked with him for an hour and didn’t take a sip of my fucking drink,” Minghao says shaking his head. “I’m lowkey mad at how good of a person he is.”

A shout from downstairs jolts both of them and they break away from each other, Mingyu clutching his heart. “I fucking hate this household.”

“No, you don’t” Minghao smiles. “You missed us today.”

Mingyu nods and looks his best friend in the face. “I just kept spiraling through all this shit and I just got really fucking sad,” he sighs, his eyes getting wet again

“Stop crying,” Minghao says, laughing. “You keep crying and it’s going to make me cry.”

The two chuckle and another shout comes from downstairs. “Minghao, the little ferret boy is here,” Seokmin sings up the stairs, drunker than when the two left. 

“Jun is here?” Minghao brushes his hands through his hair and grabs Mingyu’s shoulders. “Do I look like I need a man?”

Mingyu squints, confused. “No?” He says, thinking he might have chosen the right answer.

“Perfect,” Minghao smiles, brushing off his shirt and starting down the stairs.

“Wait,” Mingyu puts out an arm and Minghao turns to face him. “So you like him back?”

Minghao laughs. “He’s cute, he likes me, and he sounds interesting.” He shrugs. “I don’t know if I like him because I’ve never talked to him really, but maybe I will.”

“Pft yeah, ok,” Mingyu laughs, rolling his eyes.

Sure enough, as they come down the stairs, Jun is sandwiched between Seokmin and Jungkook, and Jaehyun is staring, enraptured, as Soonyoung talks to him.

“Hey,” Minghao smiles at Jun, nodding for Jungkook to get lost. Jungkook flips him the bird and pulls the couch cushion off the sofa, throwing it on the floor and flopping unceremoniously on it, giving Minghao the stink eye. Minghao pays him no mind and moves to Seokmin.

Seokmin, ever the copycat, and a drunk one at that, takes his cushion and follows Jungkook’s suit, sliding onto the floor next to the glowering man.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jun says with a smile. “There’s more than enough room here.” Minghao slides onto the remaining cushion next to him and everyone in the room is made aware that no, there is definitely not enough room.

Mingyu shakes his head and goes to sit next to Jungkook and Seokmin, both of whom offer up a bit of their cushions for him to sit on. “This is indecent,” Seokmin drawls, taking a sip of vodka and looking over the rim of his cup.

“Do we have more pizza?” Minghao asks, looking around the room.

“Yeah,” The three on the floor say in unison, fighting each other on their way to the kitchen. Mingyu laughs as they stumble into the kitchen, his head buzzing slightly. He’s missed these weekend hangouts with his friends. Parties are, well, parties, and Mingyu isn’t a huge fan. But this, hanging out with his boys eating pizza and getting drunk off his ass, this is nice.

“So,” Jungkook starts, slapping a slice of pepperoni pizza on a questionably clean plate, “You’re doing better?”

Mingyu nods. He honestly does feel better. He missed his boys all day, and being around them, hanging out, that was enough to make him feel a little bit better. “I guess I was just thinking about how stuff is going to be in the future and I just got a bit freaked out.”

“Hell nah, not me,” Jungkook laughs. “Once Jae moves out, I can stop living in the fucking basement.”

“But then we won’t have any fun stories about the Helgas, or Taeyong,” Seokmin says softly, his fingers caressing the rim of his cup. “And no more nice stamps from his dad.”

Mingyu hadn’t thought about Jaehyun’s dad’s stamps he gives all the boys for Christmas. “His mom’s kimchi is the best,” Mingyu adds on, the darkness of the last twelve hours starting to return.

“Who are we supposed to prank when he’s gone?” Jungkook says, face falling. 

Seokmin shrugs. “Mingyu will cry if we did anything to him, and Minghao would kill us.”

The three stand in depressed silence for a few moments before Jungkook silently pulls them into a hug. “And now you know how I’ve felt all day,” Mingyu says, sighing.

“Well shit, I’m sorry,” Seokmin says, his words slurring together. “If I would’ve known you were this sad I wouldn’t have said anything about Wonwoo.”

Jungkook nods in agreement. “This day must have sucked ass. Sorry Gyu.”

The quiet returns and Mingyu laughs. “I’m done with being sad.”

“Forever?” Seokmin asks, a smile breaking over his face. 

“Nah, just for tonight,” Mingyu laughs. “Wanna go get drunk?”

Seokmin does a double thumbs up, forgetting about the drink in his hand, sending it tumbling to the ground. “Already way ahead of you,” he grins as the three of them look to the puddle of vodka on the linoleum.

Mingyu is fucking wasted. It’s four in the morning and everyone has been slowly passing out for the last hour, and as he looks around, he realizes he’s the last awake. Soonyoung had left before the rest of the guys had started doing Jell-O shots, which ended badly, as the actual Jell-O in the shots hadn’t fully Jell-O-fied yet. 

Mingyu doesn’t remember being drunk like this, possibly ever. He just kept taking stuff. He didn’t really think about it, and he knows, even now, that it was a terrible idea. But laying on the floor of their living room, Mingyu can’t help but feel happy.

He forgot about Wonwoo for an entire evening. It could hardly be counted as an achievement, but Mingyu takes it as a win. Wonwoo is really hard to forget about, and maybe he didn’t completely forget about his thin wrists and smooth skin, but he almost did, and that’s what counts.

Wonwoo has this strange grip on Mingyu’s head, his body, and his heart. When Mingyu thinks about Wonwoo, he can’t stop. He doesn’t know if it's the nearly six glasses of cheap whisky coursing through his bloodstream, or the lack of sleep he’s had over the past week, but he misses Wonwoo. He’s missed Wonwoo, of course, but not like this. 

There’s a dull ache in his chest and he feels almost like it's hard to breathe. Maybe it's the kidney failure setting in, he thinks, but Mingyu knows, it’s that beautiful, brainy boy from down the street.

Mingyu doesn’t know what it all means. The endless thoughts, the aching in his chest. He just knows that it started when he met Wonwoo, and he doesn’t want it to end. It’s annoying at times to be so deep in his thoughts, to be focused on Wonwoo’s hair, or his collar bones peeking out from under that worn yellow sweater he always wears, or that gross little rag of a bracelet that he wears that Mingyu knows he loves to death. But Mingyu can’t stop himself. 

Nearly anything now reminds him of Wonwoo. Certain colors, smells, and sounds that just scream Wonwoo make Mingyu stop and smile, sometimes visibly in front of other people. God, it’s so fucking embarrassing sometimes, but he loves the feeling of lightness he feels, giddiness in his stomach and the tingle he gets when he thinks of the older man.

Working in the bookstore has made it a living hell for Mingyu to keep his head on straight. He’s bought Wonwoo six books, and each time Mingyu has dropped them off to Wonwoo, he looks each book over, paws through the pages and tucks the book under his arm. Wonwoo, fuck, he’s just so sweet. Mingyu knows he probably hasn’t read any of those damn books, and it hurts a little that he’s never given Mingyu a review of the books he’s bought him, but the fact that Wonwoo just takes them no questions asked is utterly amazing.

God, it’s been a little over a month of him knowing this amazing human being and he’s already completely obsessed with him. Mingyu knows his fascination with Wonwoo is strange, no matter which way it’s swung, and feels almost guilty that he cares so much for the older. They hardly know each other, except, in this month and a few days, Mingyu feels like he’s opened up to Wonwoo quicker than anyone else in his whole life. Hell, it took Minghao six years to get Mingyu to tell him the story of how he pissed his pants in the third grade, and Mingyu had readily given that up on the second day he’d hung out with Wonwoo.

Except, that’s fucking stupid, because of course he knows his own feelings. He’ll never admit it to anyone, but sure, he loves Wonwoo, of course he does. Wonwoo is his best friend, his other half, and in such a different way than Minghao. Minghao makes him laugh, he can tell him anything, he loves Minghao. But Wonwoo is magnetic, he pulls Mingyu in and every word that comes out of him, shy, angry, upset, every damn word has Mingyu hanging onto it in a way he’s never felt before.

Jaehyun had been bothering him the other day and asked if Wonwoo was a girl, if Mingyu would ask him out. Mingyu had waved him off and ignored him at the time, but he knew the answer. Undeniably yes. Wonwoo is indescribable, something so new and interesting, something that Mingyu wants to drown in. Every time they hang out, Mingyu just stares in awe of how fucking cool (?) Wonwoo is. 

And don’t get him started on those stupid little hang outs. Everyone in the house has called them “dates” since the beginning. His friends are so unforgiving, and never let anything go. They won’t let him live it down, the fact that he’s in love with his best friend and going on little dates completely oblivious of his own feelings.

Except they're not dating, because Mingyu is straight. They do everything a couple does, Jungkook points out, except the “nasty stuff.” Mingyu loves these platonic dates, and as he lays on that cold, hard floor, his murky brain throwing all of this at him, for a brief second, he wishes it wasn’t as platonic as it is. 

Maybe Wonwoo’s lips are as soft as his hands, Mingyu bets they are. He wishes he could find out, maybe in a way that he can take it all back afterwards, because Wonwoo is his _best friend._ And Jesus, he’s thinking about kissing his friend. What’s even dumber than that, is that for a second, he loves that idea. 

Maybe Wonwoo would love that idea too, maybe he feels like he wants to kiss Mingyu, just to see if Mingyu’s lips are as chapped as they look. But if Wonwoo doesn’t think of Mingyu like that, then Mingyu is the biggest dick in the whole wide world. For fucks sake, Mingyu isn’t even gay, he really isn’t. 

But if he isn’t gay, then why does he want to slam that thin, fluffy nerd into a fucking wall and do unspeakable things to him.

Mingyu groans and rubs his face, hot tears streaming down his cheeks. “Fuck,” he says quietly, flipping on his stomach and shaking his head. He rams his chin into his arm and lays there, trying to clear his thoughts.

He likes girls, he likes the girls he’s dated, and he doesn’t like boys. But Wonwoo isn’t a boy, he’s Mingyu’s best friend, and Mingyu shouldn’t be thinking about him like this.

“Hey Mingyu,” Minghao asks blearily, rubbing his eyes. “Are you ok?”

Minghao is Mingyu’s best friend too, and Mingyu has never once thought about fucking him, kissing him, or slamming him into any walls in any sort of sexual manner. “Have you ever wanted to fuck me?”

Minghao snorts and looks surprised. “Um, what the fuck, no?”

“Damn it,” Mingyu says, massaging his temples. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants. If he wants to fuck Wonwoo than this is it, this is the moment his roommates have been waiting for for years. “Minghao,” he says, looking up at his friend pleadingly. 

“Yeah?”

He sighs deeply and steadies his breathing. “I think I might be into a guy.”

“A guy?” Minghao says, yawning. 

Mingyu nods quickly and tries to hold back his tears. He’s so fucking mad at himself for denying it for the past month, maybe longer, and he just wants to cry. “A guy,” he confirms.

Minghao raises his eyebrow and smirks. “Is this perhaps, the guy?” 

He doesn’t even need a response, Mingyu’s tears are more than an answer. After a few quiet sobs, Mingyu nods. And his petty ass, through all this anger, uncertainty, and fear puts together one dumbass thought. “Don’t tell the guys, please. They’ll never let me live this down.”

Minghao rolls his eyes and slides onto the floor, wrapping Mingyu in a soft embrace. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Besides,” comes a sleepy voice from the other side of the room. “We all already heard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS ALIVE  
> And by it, I mean, of course, this wonderful work that GG and I have been working on. Got a little sidetracked there with some*mental breakdowns* and *a whole ton of schoolwork*, but we’re back and hope to be finishing this soon! Thank you all for your continued support and interest, it means a lot to the both of us! Hope everyone is doing well, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. :)  
> <3<3<3  
> -El

**Author's Note:**

> Thank y'all so much for checking out our fic! This whole thing started out as a total joke that somehow became multiple chapters and we've had a ton of fun writing it. Please feel free to comment and let us know what you think, and, if you so feel inclined, check out some of our other projects!
> 
> Link to bassdrop's Tumblr [here](https://bassdropontwo.tumblr.com) if you want to come talk about fics!
> 
> Love you all!  
> \- GG and El


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